The Communists and the Kadro Movement: Shaping Ideology in Ataturk's Turkey 9781463225681

Table of contents :
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Preface
Introduction
Chapter I: Preparing the Ground
Chapter II: Turkish Communism: The Legal Phase
Chapter III: Adapting to Underground Life
Chapter IV: The Challenge of the Great Depression
Chapter V: Kadro
Chapter VI: The Communists and the Kadro Movement
Chapter VII: Toward the United Front and Beyond
Appendix 1: Tiirkiye Kommunist Firkasi: Fealiyet Programi
Appendix 2: Kadro
Appendix 3: Exchange of letters between Latife and Kameneva
Bibliography
Index

Citation preview

T h e Communists and the Kadro Movement

Analecta Isisiana: Ottoman and Turkish Studies

A co-publication with The Isis Press, Istanbul, the series consists of collections of thematic essays focused on specific themes of Ottoman and Turkish studies are brought together in Analecta Isisiana. These scholarly volumes address important issues throughout Turkish history, offering in a single volume the accumulated insights of a single author over a career of research on the subject.

The Communists and the Kadro Movement

Shaping Ideology in Ataturk's Turkey

George Harris

T h e Isis Press, Istanbul

pre** 2010

Gorgias Press LLC, 954 River Road, Piscataway, NJ, 08854, USA www.gorgiaspress.com Copyright © 2010 by The Isis Press, Istanbul Originally published in 2002 All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise without the prior written permission of The Isis Press, Istanbul. 2010

o

ISBN 978-1-61719-114-5

Printed in the United States of America

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Preface

9

Introduction

11

Chapter I: Preparing the Ground

15

Chapter II: Turkish Communism: The Legal Phase

39

Chapter III: Adapting to Underground Life

69

Chapter IV: The Challenge of the Great Depression

93

Chapter V: Kadro

115

Chapter VI: The Communists and the Kadro Movement

131

Chapter VII: Toward the United Front and Beyond

143

Appendix 1: Tiirkiye Kommunist Firkasi: Fealiyet Programi

173

Appendix 2: Kadro

206

Appendix 3: Exchange of letters between Latife and Kameneva

224

Bibliography

227

Index

237

Preface

My work on the Turkish Communist Party began in the depths of the Cold War with the publications in 1968 of The Origins of Communism in Turkey. That study covered the legal phase of Communist experience in Turkey, a period ending in 1925. At the time when that analysis was completed, documentation available to me appeared too sparse to permit tracing the continuation of the party as an underground entity or to elucidate, except in the most sketchy fashion, the relationship of the Communist movement to the ideologists who attempted to develop a systematic formulation of Kemalism in Turkey. The present study draws heavily on material that has become available since the original investigation. It does not, however, aim to repeat in detail the data presented in my earlier treatment or to provide a detailed account of the legal period of Turkish Communist existence, that is the pre-1926 period. Instead, while the text that follows will present some of the more important new findings relating to the period before the Communist Party became illegal in 1925, the primary emphasis of the current work will be on the period during Atatiirk's lifetime when the Communist Party was underground, i.e., the late 1920s and 1930s. This era was one of decisive influence on the development of contemporary Turkey. But it has been the focus of less scholarly attention than was the earlier period, evidently because the events from 1925 to Ataturk's death appeared less striking than the unmistakable political landmarks of the struggle for independence after the First World War and the establishment of the Republic. Yet for a more balanced understanding of the politics of the Atatiirk era, it is necessary to pay attention to even such competing movements as the Turkish Communist Party, which left an imprint on Turkish economic thinking which lasted for decades. The debts of a researcher attempting to delve into this difficult terrain are many and obvious. The present work could not have been produced without the assistance of some of the more prominent early defectors from the Turkish Communist movement who came together to found the influential journal, Kadro. I was fortunate indeed to have been able to arrange lengthy sessions with §evket Siireyya Aydemir, Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu, and Ismail Husrcv Tokin to discuss their involvement with the Turkish Communist Party and their subsequent role in contributing to the elaboration of Kemalist ideology. Not only did they provide insights into their own thinking and intentions, but Aydemir made available documentation not heretofore at the disposal of scholars.

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The growing ranks of investigators in Turkey who have added to the documentary record have also been of inestimable value in informing the present study. I would cite especially the efforts of Mete Tunçay to locate and publish party documents and photographs, particularly relating to the party's period of legal operation. It is also a pleasure to note the contributions of Aclan Sayilgan, whose personal generosity saved me much unnecessary labor. A m o n g others who helped me along the way I would like to single out the administration of Bilkent University and its professors in the political sciences, public administrations and international relations departments. In addition, I have had the opportunity to discuss these issues with a number of other scholars and observers reflecting a wide spectrum of political opinion in Turkey. Although they have thus contributed materially to my understanding, none of those who were kind enough to provide their interpretations is responsible f o r the way I have used their observations or the conclusions I have drawn. I have also sought to base my work as far as possible on data f r o m underground Communist Party publications circulated in the 1920s and 1930s and on Comintern documents published in the same period. I have also used some of the memoirs penned by members of the Turkish Communist Party, although they were often later adherents and were at times reporting hearsay. Taken together, this material allows new light to be shed on the twists and turns of the Communist line. Many of these documents were published by a branch of the Turkish Communist Party in London in the 1980s, some in photocopy and others merely in transcription. They seem entirely genuine, although they were published in the service of conducting a doctrinal fight within the party against the Moscow-line leadership. A s this material was banned in Turkey at the time of publication and is somewhat ephemeral in nature, it has apparently been unavailable to most researchers who have sought to understand and explain the Turkish Communist Party during its period of illegality. Finally, in crediting those who have substantially enriched my labors, it is a happy obligation to be able to express here my great thanks and deep appreciation to my wife for her patient encouragement during the extravagantly long effort to put this analysis into its present form. GSH Westmoreland Hills

2002

Introduction

The effort to formulate an ideology for the Kemalist revolution became a major enterprise in the Turkey of Mustafa Kemal Atatiirk. It was clear to many spanning the spectrum from left to right that the Kemalist movement was important enough and individual enough to inspire an ideology. Atatiirk himself provided an outline, but many felt that they could fill in the chinks to serve their own interests. Thus it was not surprising that Turkish Communists, who often seemed to have imbibed some of the strain of nationalism, too, would participate in this process. And ex-Communists as well were in the forefront of those who engaged in this exercise. The story of the contribution of the left to this process is what the ensuing pages are about. Many of the vicissitudes of the Communist Party's short period of legal existence in Turkey in the 1920s have been exposed in earlier research. But the party's fortunes were affected by the general course of relations between the Soviet regime in Moscow and Atatiirk's government in Ankara in greater degree than is usually realized. Indeed, it is clear—and not surprising—that the Turkish Communist Party often served as an adjunct of official Soviet foreign policy. The following pages help make that evident. The thread of continuity after the party was banned in 1925 and its leaders arrested or dispersed has been far more difficult to unravel. Until the Comintern and Soviet archives are opened to a far greater extent than this researcher was able to find, much more will be left to explain. Yet the present study does attempt to fill in some of the gaps in order to explain the major lines of Communist activity underground during Atatiirk's lifetime. It will do so by a close inspection of Communist party illegal literature, especially that published in Turkey and circulated primarily to party members. But it will also compare that with the Comintern's publications abroad to allow a more rounded view of the Turkish Communist Party's approach. There are four areas in particular where the current work makes a contribution. First it gives a running account that allows the reader to follow changes in the line of the Turkish Communist Party toward the Kemalist regime as well as toward world events having no particular relevance to Turkey. Second, it contributes to a better appreciation of the factional problems within the party, including the role of Nazim Hikmet in particular. Third it illuminates some of the problems in the relationship between the Turkish Communist Party and the Comintern. And finally, it contributes to greater understanding of where Communists arguments influenced intellectual thinking in Turkey.

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In particular, thanks to new documentation, light can now be shed on the relationship of the party to the effort of the so-called "Kadro movement" to develop ideology for modern Turkey in the early 1930s. Kadro has been the source of considerable confusion in the literature on Turkey. On the one hand, it has been viewed as providing the ideological underpinnings for the Kemalist principle of "etatism." In a slightly different understanding of the importance of the Kadro group, its members have been hailed as a transmission belt for leftist ideas from the earlier Turkish Communist movement of the radicals of the late 1960s and beyond in Turkey. While both notions contain a germ of truth, neither is entirely correct. Although the Kadro group sought to supply the operational code for etatism in the 1930s, in the end it was not fully successful. The content and application of that statist economic policy were largely defined and set by the banking community in Turkey led by Celal Bayar, the most ardent foe of the ideas redolent of Marxism propounded by Kadro. Indeed, as practiced in Turkey in the 1930s, etatism proved rather to be a kind of "vitamin-treatment" for Turkish capitalism, something that the Moscow-line Turkish Communist Party recognized. Turkish etatism was by no means the leftist formula for a comprehensive planned economy modeled on Soviet experience that the Kadro message implied.1 The proposition that Kadro was a bridge between Communists and the new radicals who threatened the political structure of modern Turkey especially in the 1970s is valid only to a point. §evket Sureyya Aydemir, an exCommunist who was one of the spark plugs of the original Kadro group, did attempt to redefine its principles for the generation of the 1960s. Aydemir in the latter period was lionized by student admirers and lent support to some who were seeking to promote a military takeover at the end of the 1960s in hopes that a military regime would serve as a prelude to a leftist regime. Moreover, the influential journal, Yon, published from 1961 to 1967, was a frank imitation of Kadro thirty years before. But the young radicals of the 1960s and 1970s in Turkey had imbibed a far more potent brew than the Kadro mixture of Marxism and nationalism. Their activism was inspired by Soviet and Maoist thought as well as by Palestinian and Latin American radicalism. Among their heroes were figures such as Che Guevara and Carlos Marighella. Their training was often received in camps run by the more extreme components of the Palestine Liberation Organization. It would thus be a grave error to judge the leftist violence that upended two different civilian regimes in Turkey as in important degree the outgrowth of Kadro's teachings. Vsee E. Glinge, "Early Planning Experiences in Turkey," in S. tlkin and E. Inang (eds.), Planning in Turkey (Ankara: Middle East Technical University, publication no. 9, 1967), p. 13.

INTRODUCTION

13

The question of whether the founders of the Kadro movement were renegades who had truly abandoned their Communist ties or whether they maintained their allegiance to Moscow in an insidious effort to subvert Kemalism from within has been the stuff of polemics in Turkey. It was involved in the controversy in the immediate post-Second World War period in Turkey over the fitness of the Republican Peoples party to rule and the unwariness of the early Democrat Party leadership. Yet when one inspects the differences between the Moscow-line Communists and the Kadroists, it is clear that the former dropped their emphasis on state capitalism in favor of reflecting the views of the Comintern internationally and argued that class was the prime determinant of developments domestically. The Kadroists, on the other hand, represented a nationalist view of the world that, although accepting dialectical materialism, eschewed the inevitability of class conflict. While this political competition has lost some of its original political salience, what does seem beyond question is that the Kadro venture served as a beacon for an increasingly important current among Turkish intellectuals. Even though the Kadroist vision of a "third way," neither Communist nor capitalist, for Turkey was never fully implemented by the Kemalist Peoples Party when it was in power, elements of this vision long colored economic thinking in Turkey. The protectionist philosophy which, thanks at least in part to them, had become an accepted tenet of Kemalist orthodoxy frustrated Adnan Menderes' efforts to open the Turkish economy to foreign investment. In the decades of the 1960s and 1970s, it formed, for example, the intellectual grounding for some to oppose Turkish membership in European economic arrangements. And it gave an autarkic cast to Turkish economic policy that long inspired Turkey's bureaucrats to resist efforts by business interests to woo foreign capital and liberalize the economy. Although this narrowly nationalistic approach demanding virtually complete self-sufficiency is now in full retreat before broad pressures to open up the Turkish economic structure to the outside world along free market lines and join in the European Union, it may be still too early to be sure that all elements of the Kadro recipe have lost their latent appeal for all time. A major addition to the literature attempting to clarify the relationship of the Kadroists to their Communist antecedents is the document that §evket Stireyya Aydemir received from Berlin in 1932, critiquing from the Turkish Communist Party's point of view the contents of the first issue of Kadro. In providing a copy of this missive to the present author, Aydemir indicated that he had "held it back" from publication to save it for a projected, but never completed book on his Kadro experiences.

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The Berlin document is extremely revealing of Communist attitudes of the day. In the context of the Comintern's public reaction to the development of etatism in Turkey, it allows a far more confident appraisal of the degree of difference between the Kadro formula and the Stalinist dogma of the Turkish Communist Party. It also provides access into the always murky recesses of Communist factional imperatives. Finally, it contributes to an understanding of why the Communist Party became increasingly irrelevant to the Turkey of the later 1930s.

CHAPTER I: Preparing the Ground

The disruptions resulting from the First World War, the Bolshevik Revolution with its claims to world-wide reach, and the Turkish struggle for independence set the stage on which Communism in Turkey would play out in the 1920s and 1930s. In a state of war almost constantly since 1912, the Ottoman State disintegrated once the war with the Entente came to an end. Istanbul lost control of the extensive Arab portions of the Empire as well as the last remnants of the Balkans. The top layers of Ottoman leadership either were arrested or fled, leaving a fluid political scene. The disruption was aggravated when occupation of the Ottoman capital by British forces soon complicated communication between Anatolia and Istanbul. Victorious, the Entente powers sought to pursue war-time schemes to divide the Turkish speaking area and leave only a rump hinterland under control of a Turkish government. These intentions were revealed by the new Russian regime in November 1917. That shocked the Turkish intelligentsia which was thus forced to abandon its hope that the Great Powers would assure Turkish sovereignty over the portions of the Ottoman realm inhabited by Turks as provided in Wilson's Fourteen Points. The treaty of Sèvres in August 1920, with its provisions for a Kurdish state as well, just confirmed to nationalist Turks that they could not look to the West for their defense. As a result, this was a time of ferment. The Turkish intellectual class was seeking new ideas and principles as well as new forms of organization. Turks had had little experience with socialism, although Salonika's largely non-Turkish population had displayed some interest in Marxism since the Young Turk revolution. Istanbul and Izmir had not been entirely immune to the blandishments of socialist thought. But in the last days of the Ottoman Empire, pan-Turkism and pan-Islam attracted far more attention and adherents. Yet, despite the fact that the works of Marx and Lenin were not yet available in translation, the élite was able to follow the installation of Soviet rule in Russia and began to show interest in this new contender on the world stage. Early experiences in dealing with this new Bolshevik power would create for a time hopes among Turkish politicians that Communism could usher in a new day and that the enmity of past centuries could be buried. Those hopes were burnished, especially as Lenin had spoken out against the Russian military occupation of Kars, Ardahan, and Batum even before the Bolshevik

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takeover. 1 But at the same time, the residue of historical suspicion of the northern neighbor continued to infect the élite, leaving latent doubts about whether or not Communist intentions would be entirely benign. The first substantial contact with the nascent Soviet state came at BrestLitovsk at the end of 1917. In peace negotiations there, Enver Pasha had charged his chief of delegation, Foreign Minister Ahmet Nessimi Bey, to regain the provinces of Kars, Ardahan, and Batum lost in 1878 to Russia. Despite the lack of hoped for German support, the Turkish delegation pressed on. It was encouraged by the Communist regime's public renunciation of rights under the war-time secret agreements just before negotiations were to begin. And with the treaty signed on March 3, 1918 at Brest-Litovsk, the Turks finally managed to secure agreement to the return of their eastern provinces.2 Negotiations to secure this result had been difficult, however, especially because Moscow was preoccupied with refusing German demands to allow annexation of territory in east Europe. Problems with Germany also complicated agreement on the repatriation of prisoners of war held by Russia, thus delaying the return of many Turks. In this situation, Ottoman officials soon came to believe that the Bolsheviks were stalling for time. Hence the Turks punctuated their demands with military operations to achieve success. And in fact, the Russian Communists signed the Brest-Litovsk Treaty under protest, at the last minute complaining that Kars, Ardahan, and Batum were not conquered by the Turks and thus should not be given to them. Moreover, in the end a provision with troublesome implications for the Turks was inserted in the agreement at the insistence of the Soviets. It promised the Armenians the right freely to determine their own future. 3 Thus from the first, Communist renunciation of nationalism seemed less than complete on a point that concerned Turkey. This stand would not go unnoticed by the Turkish élite. Pursuant to the Brest-Litovsk Treaty, in April 1918 the Ottomans sent experienced diplomat Galip Kemali Sòylemezoglu as Minister in Moscow, even though the Soviets did not respond by sending their own envoy to Istanbul. He was immediately embroiled in reporting the attacks of Turkish Communists against the Ottoman government in Yeni Dtinya, a newly established publication issued by the Central Committee of Muslim Socialists 1 Richard G. Hovannisian, "Armenia and the Caucasus in the Genesis of the Soviet-Turkish Entente," International Journal of Middle East Studies, vol. 4, no. 2 (April 1973), p. 130. 2 Stefanos Yerasimos, Tiirk-Sovyet Ilqkileri: Ekim Devriminden "Milli Mucadele"ye (Istanbul: Gozlem Yayinlan, 1979), pp. 44-49. 3 Galip Kemali Soylemezoglu, Hariciye Hizmetinde Otuz Sene (Istanbul: Ika Matbaasi, 1949), pp. 401-485, esp. pp. 442-443.

PREPARING

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in Moscow. His second preoccupation in the nearly four months he was in Moscow was the fate of Turks in Russia under the Communist regime. His efforts to secure the repeal of laws that conflicted with Islamic principles ran up against sharp rejection by the Kremlin. And finally, he faced a difficult task in parrying Soviet objections to Turkish advances in the Caucasus which Enver pasha was determined to make. In the end, Foreign Minister Georgi Chicherin protested Turkish intimidation of the local population. Chicherin maintained that these actions during the Turkish occupation of Kars, Ardahan, and Batum tainted the referendum process established in the Brest-Litovsk Treaty. As a result, the Russians questioned whether the Turks had legitimate rights to these provinces. With the signature of the Mudros Armistice between the Ottoman state and the Western allies, Soylemezoglu's tenure in Moscow came to an end. It would be over two years before diplomatic relations were restored, and this time with the Ankara regime, not with the Ottomans.1

Turning to the Bolsheviks Neither the problems nor the benefits of negotiating with the Communists in Moscow were lost on Mustafa Kemal Ataturk. Even from the earliest stages of organizing the struggle for independence, he recognized that dealing with Moscow would have an important place in the success of his nationalist endeavor. Like many in his generation, he was impressed by the apparent power of the Russian Revolution. From observing the ill-fated Communist experiment in Hungary under Bela Kun at the end of 1918, he apparently concluded that it was the absence of common borders with the Soviet state which prevented Moscow from extending effective aid and thereby caused the Hungarian Revolution to fail. 2 That lesson animated his thinking all through the struggle for independence. It inclined him to cooperate with the Communist regime in Moscow, to clear away obstacles to direct contact in the Caucasus, and to seek good relations with the Kremlin no matter how bothersome Soviet machinations in Anatolia might be. How to make direct contact with the Bolsheviks and what Turkey had to do to enlist Moscow's support were thus among the first questions Ataturk considered after landing in Samsun to raise the flag of independence in May 1919. This preoccupation was visible even as early as the period when he was acting as Chairman of the Representative Committee, before the Grand National Assembly moved to Ankara. Already by June 1919, he was receiving messages from his force commanders about the attractiveness and desirability ^Galip Kemali Soylemezoglu, 30 Senelik Siyasi Hatiralarimin Uguncii Cildi: Kisim: 1: 19181922 (Istanbul: Ulkii Basimevi, 1953), pp. 19-135. Yerasimos, Tiirk-Sovyet ili§kileri, pp. 18-31. 2 Rasih Nuri Ileri, Ataturk ve Komiinizm (Istanbul: Anadolu Yayinlari, 1970), pp. 20-21.

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of dealing with the Communist regime in Russia. In reply he made clear that the nationalists should not wait for the Bolsheviks to make the first proposal. "It would be appropriate" he told the commanders, "to enter into discussions with them [the Bolsheviks] immediately through some envoys to be sent secretly. In this way it would not be necessary for Bolsheviks to enter our country in numbers and with force." 1 By giving this cautionary note about holding the Communists at arms length, it was clear that Atatiirk was wary of their intentions from the first, despite the urgency of establishing relations with the revolutionary regime in Moscow. This urgency, he explained, was because it was necessary to arrange material and monetary support for the nationalist movement, which was under immediate and compelling pressure from the Greek forces. The latter had landed in izmir and soon began to push inland. Further Atatiirk also deemed it of high priority to find out what the Kremlin's intentions were toward the Armenians, who had set up a state of their own in the Caucasus and then joined in a Caucasus confederation. It has often been thought that the telegram on the need to take the initiative in contact with the Soviets was sent from Havza on June 23, 1919, just after a meeting between Atatiirk and a Soviet envoy often identified as Major Budennyi. However, it now appears doubtful that such a meeting with a Soviet official took place, though Atatiirk may well have met with an agent from Subhi's party as several were in Anatolia at the time. 2 In any event, Atatiirk had arrived so recently in Anatolia and was still so guarded about his real aims that there probably would not have been time enough for Moscow or Baku to have recognized what he was doing and send someone specifically for the purpose of probing his activities. Whatever the nature of his contact with Communists may have been at this point, Atatiirk's views during the period when the national struggle in Turkey was getting organized before the opening of parliament in Ankara, were remarkably well formed. Unlike the shifting Comintern and Turkish Communist view of his revolution, Atatiirk's understanding of Communism did not change in its essentials thereafter. From the first, he understood the political implications of the spread of Communism. In common with the secular élite of his time, Atatiirk appreciated the anti-imperialist emphasis of Communist dogma and he accepted the old dictum: "the enemy of my enemy is my friend." But while he thoroughly agreed with the Marxist identification of imperialism as one of the driving forces of history, already in 1919 he was wary of accepting class conflict as the basis of political evolution. Moreover, he was always concerned to make sure that Bolshevism did not undercut his ^Kazim Karabekir, istiklal Harbimiz (Istanbul: Tiirkiye Yayinevi, 1960), p. 58. Major (later Marshal) Budennyi's travels in distant parts of Russia in May 1919 make it unlikely he could have been in Anatolia to meet with Atatiirk. It is possible, however, that other unofficial emissaries did make contact with the Turkish leader.

2

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national movement. In particular, he was from the first determined not to allow any movement controlled from abroad to challenge his control in Anatolia. Indeed, in his speech opening the Erzurum Congress on July 23, 1919, he proclaimed that only Anatolia could produce a national administration for Turkey deriving its power from the national will. 1 On this basis, he could not have felt that the Appeal to the Workers and Peasants of Turkey to rise in revolt that Soviet Foreign Minister Chicherin made in September 1919 was a friendly gesture, ignoring entirely as it did the Kemalist movement. While that appeal was clearly directed at subjects of the Sultan's government in Istanbul, its silence on dealing with the emerging Ankara regime may have merely spurred him on to try to establish friendly relations with the Bolshevik government in Moscow in order to protect his rear and to probe the possibility of securing aid from that quarter. 2 Yet at the same time, Atatiirk was careful to try to staunch fears in the West that he was soft on Communism. To that end he sought to take advantage of the arrival of General James Harbord, who had been sent by President Woodrow Wilson to Anatolia to investigate the question of a possible American mandate in Turkey. Even if one makes an allowance for Atatiirk's obvious effort to impress his audience in a way to deflect Washington from considering further the mandate project, his analysis for the United States government is striking in its consistency with his views over the long term. His statement to Harbord on October 15, 1919, included the following reassurances: As to the Bolshevists: there is no room whatever in our country for this doctrine, our religion and customs as well as our social organization being entirely unfavorable to its implantation. In Turkey there are neither great capitalists nor millions of artisans and workingmen. On the other hand, we are not saddled with an agrarian question. Finally, from the social point of view our religious principles are such as to dispense us with the adoption of Bolshevism. 3

' Atatürk 'Uri Söylev ve Demeçleri: vol. 1: T.B.MMeclisinde ve C.H.P. Kurultaylarmda (19191938), (Istanbul: Maarif matbaasi, 1945), p. 6. ^Stefanos Yerasimos, Türk-Sovyet ìligkileri: Ekim Devriminden "Milli Miicadele"ye (Istanbul: Gözlem Yayinlari, 1979), pp. 130-133. 3 See George S. Harris, The Origins of Communism in Turkey (Stanford: The Hoover Institution on War, Revolution and Peace, 1967), p. 3; Ileri, Atatiirk ve Komünizm, p. 63.

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Facing Communism in Anatolia Atatiirk constantly rejected claims by the Istanbul government that the Communists were making serious inroads into Anatolia and had influence over the nationalist movement. Nonetheless, when he made Ankara the headquarters of the struggle for independence in December 1919, he found interest in Bolshevism had risen to a pitch high enough to require some action on his part. Defeat in the First World War triggered a wave of dissatisfaction with the West among Turks. This reaction against the political encroachments of Europe crystallized in a school of thought that gained currency as "the Eastern Ideal." Exponents of this point of view held that Western civilization had become decadent and would soon be destroyed. In contrast, they glorified the Orient as the center of a new civilization already in its birth pangs. They could not yet discern the pattern of this new growth, but by its very genesis they saw it as pulling down the old order. On this basis, the "Easternizers" urged that Turkey should throw in its lot with eastern countries to avoid destruction, perhaps taking the Russian Revolution as a model. The protagonists of this point of view were mostly intellectuals who had no practical conception of what Bolshevism would mean in Turkey. They were primarily concerned with liberation from the West. Many envisaged a Turkey free of direct Russian control. In line with this thinking, by the time the Grand National Assembly moved to Ankara in April 1920, the Kemalist élite had taken to calling each other "Comrade" and even referred to the ministries of the nationalist government as "People's Commissariats." 1 While later observers have tended to regard the climate for Communism to develop as quite limited in the Turkey of that day, Atatiirk clearly did not think the Anatolian soil was so unpromising for its growth at this time. In view of the effervescence of Bolshevik behavior, Atatiirk concluded that he must inform the parliamentarians of his own reservations about Communism. Thus as early as the period when the new government was being organized, he took the floor in a closed session of the Assembly on April 24, 1920, the day after parliament opened in Ankara to say: The Bolsheviks, as you know, have their own special principles and point of view. I personally am not privy to these in all clarity and detail. And wherever we contacted the Bolsheviks and wherever they came up to now, the Bolsheviks always were determined to have their own points of view accepted. Whatever these points of view might be, Tevfik Biyiklioglu, Atatiirk Anadolu'da (1919-1921) (Ankara: Turk Tarih Kurumu Basimevi, 1959), pp. 68, reports that "all those at the top including Mustafa Kemal Pasha [Atatiirk] took the name 'Comrade' and wore red-peaked kalpaks and made a show of being Communists in order to be able to control the secret Communist activity of the Russians in Anatolia."

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our own country has a set of view points of its own.... Our nation has customs, religious requirements, and national exigencies, such that whatever we may do, we must keep in mind our customs and religious requirements and we must lay a foundation consistent with that for ourselves.1 He went on to stress that the Kemalist movement was the "enemy of tyranny and the enemy of imperialists." Yet at the same time he noted that Ankara must consider the fact that the Europeans feared Bolshevism. Clearly Atatiirk did not want to put any unnecessary obstacles in the way of eventual peace with Europe. The problem was that in order to preserve Turkey's national existence "we found it valid to use every source [of aid from] abroad." But efforts to secure aid from the Communists in Russia had not yet given firm results. If assistance were to become possible, Atatiirk expected that the Assembly would approve a relationship with Moscow, without of course allowing such a relationship to entail conversion to Communism. On May 11, 1920, an "Appeal to Muslims of Russia and the East" from the Russian Commissar for Nationalities was read in the Ankara Assembly. The text of this declaration had been picked up by the Erzurum radio listening post and sent to the Grand National Assembly by Eastern Front Commander Kazim Karabekir. The appeal was clearly designed to speak to the Kemalist regime, for this time it was not addressed to "workers and peasants," but instead called for rejection of imperialism and defense of all Islamic peoples. Specifically it announced that "Istanbul will remain in the hands of Muslims. The treaty about dividing Turkey and forming Armenia from Turkish land is torn up and destroyed." And it asked its audience to reject tyranny which sought to make Turkey bow in subservience. "Be the owners ["effendi"] of your country," it urged.2 Reading of this appeal occasioned a debate in the Ankara parliament, first over the need to respond. Eventually, by a show of hands, the Council of Ministers was directed to send a telegram of thanks. The major part of the debate, however, concerned the nature of Communism as practiced by the Soviets. Antalya deputy Hamdullah Subhi Tannover led off. As a convinced conservative, he frankly stated that "there are some points of concern in the face of Bolshevik currents." The Turkish people know little about Communism, but "our ignorance does not prevent Bolshevism coming to our borders," he added. Nor was Turkey at all prepared to meet this challenge because it had not decided on its point of view. Our country "is seduced," he 1 TBMM, Gizli Celse Zabitlari, vol. 1 (Ankara: TBMM Basxmevi, 1980), pp. 4-5 (session of April 24, 1920). 2 T.B.M.M., Zabit Ceridesi, vol. 1 (Ankara: T.B.M.M. Matbaasi, 3rd edition, 1959), pp. 256-257 (session of May 11, 1920).

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pointed out. As a result, there was a danger that if Communism entered Anatolia it would destroy Turkish traditions and what was sacred. Thus Turks must learn what Communism was and "we must make a judgment. Perhaps it is not such. Perhaps it comes as the truest helper for us. [Perhaps] it comes as a force to help us drive the others from our soil." But Tanriover faulted the Assembly for backing away from clarity and not carrying out its duty in regard to enlightening the people about Communism. He ended his remarks with words of praise for the actions of Bolsheviks toward the Islamic world. Lenin had said that the Communists would respect religion, property, and institutions. In Tanriover's view, Turks had to decide whether the Communists had kept their word. But he assured them that reliable sources in Russia told him they had done so. On this basis he judged that the Bolsheviks were bringing aid "to drive out the treasonous forces that had invaded Turkey."1 These words, coming from a Turkish patriot who had long been suspicious of Russia, met a round of approval from various deputies. Besim Atalay from Kiitahya pointed out that the West and the East were bound to clash, and asked if Turkey should join with British Prime Minister William Gladstone who saw the Koran as an enemy, or "should we rush to the force from the East that opens its hands to us." Voices from the Assembly called out "Of course, to the East." And Atalay continued that "by walking together with the Bolsheviks we are approaching nearer to Sharia" Islamic law. Thus Atalay endorsed sending a telegram of thanks to the Soviets.2 As the discussion went on, Tanriover decided to take the floor again to comment on the appropriateness of using the word "revolution" in the Turkish context. Apparently fellow deputies in talking among themselves had accused him of changing his opinion by giving the Communists a clean bill of health. Therefore, he got up a second time to argue that it was wrong to call the Kemalist movement a "revolution," for it was not a movement against the Sultan. Nor could the word be used to describe the struggle against foreign invaders like the British. Even joining forces with the revolutionary movement coming from Russia would not qualify as "revolution," to him. What Turkey had in mind was a political agreement with the Soviets. Tanriover went on to explain his view that the Red Army had paused on the border and not yet crossed over into Azerbaijan because it was a Turkish country. They did not want to crush Turkish institutions, he believed. And to cries of approval from the floor, he asserted that his confidence in the benign intentions of the Russian Communists reflected the unanimous opinion of the Assembly.3 ilbid., pp. 257-258 (session of May 11, 1920). Ibid., p.258 (session of May 11, 1920). 3 Ibid., pp. 258-259 (session of May 11, 1920).

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This suspension of disbelief and willingness to expect aid without strings from the international Communist movement framed the problem for Atatiirk and his government. Because of its importance, a significant proportion of the closed Assembly debates in the months after parliament opened in Ankara toward the end of April 1920 concerned Russia and Communism. Atatiirk spoke on the topic in most of these sessions. For example, toward the end of May 1920 when Izmit deputy Sirri Bey suggested that Turkey should look to the East to the Bolsheviks for help and make an alliance with them, Atatiirk made a point of cautioning that receptivity to alliance did not mean receptivity to Communism. After explaining that the force of the Kemalist revolution must be centered at home in the will of the people, he added: But taking into consideration that our enemies are many ... it is a sacred duty to add to our forces. Naturally we will pay attention to positive forces which can come from the East in this regard. But it is necessary to separate two aspects in this from each other. One is to become Bolshevik; the other is to make alliance with Bolshevik Russia. But we are not talking of becoming Bolshevik. We, the Council of Ministers, are talking of making an alliance with Bolshevik Russia. To become Bolshevik is something else entirely. But the question of making an alliance is being followed up very seriously and with importance and we are confident in our hope we will succeed. 1 Further, Atatiirk added that he would not let alliance with the Bolsheviks today prevent Turkey from attempting to establish political relations with America and the West tomorrow. In his view, Turkey had an opportunity to take advantage of the conclusion which he believed that the Communists had reached to the effect that alliance with the Islamic world was necessary to beat imperialism. And Atatiirk repeated this caution on July 3, 1920, in a closed session of parliament where he said "for us, for our nation, there is no question of asking shall we be Bolshevik or not," because "for us there is no question of being Bolshevik." He added "in this regard there are those who are more royalist than the king." Again he repeated that "we are faithful to our customs and principles. Their enemy is our enemy.... We can unite with them to achieve our own goals.... There is no question of being a slave to them." 2

'TBMM, Gizli Celse Zabitlari, vol, 1, pp. 47-48 (session of May 29, 1920). Ibid„ p. 72 (session of July 3,1920).

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But Atatiirk's cautionary note did not dampen interest in "light from the East." Again in the open Assembly debate on July 8, 1920, hope of support from Soviet Russia trumped fears of the age old enemy of the Turks. Impatiently waiting for aid since the opening of the Ankara parliament, Sim Bey from Izmit again deplored the obstacles that had prevented the coming of this "light," which in open session he carefully refrained from calling by name. He was seconded by Sheykh Servet Efendi from Bursa who expected the Bolsheviks to save Islam. To him, if the Bolsheviks had the virtues that they seemed to embody, then "our religion should accept these virtues." Ataturk then took the floor to assure the deputies that "we sought out the Bolsheviks and we found them and our last contact was entered in a very material and decisive way." To "bravos" from the floor he proclaimed that "the Soviet Union promised to meet our material needs in arms, guns and money." Problems in the relationship, he asserted, were about to be resolved to facilitate the flow of aid.1

Efforts to Contact the Kremlin The course to a treaty of alliance with the emergent Soviet state, however, would be neither easy nor ultimately successful. By mid-August, Ataturk had become frustrated by the persistence of difficulties in early efforts to establish contact. He told the Assembly in mid-August 1920 that he had sought contact with the Communists as early as his arrival in Erzurum in July 1919, when he "sent some comrades empowered secretly [a reference to the mission of Dr. Fuat Sabit], But months passed and we could not get a material answer from the mission we sent." Therefore, when Bolshevik forces reached the Soviet border with Armenia, Ataturk felt it essential to probe what Bolshevik intentions were and what aid they might provide. He sent a second mission, evidently the mission of former Ottoman general Halil Kut who left Anatolia in September 1919. A letter signed by Ataturk was given to this mission. In brief, it explained how the Kemalists saw Soviet aims. It proposed cooperation with Bolshevik Russia in actions against imperialist governments. Specifically Ataturk informed the Kremlin: "We will help you in all actions against Armenians.... Our aim is to live in our country independently. This is our aim before all else." When that too did not produce a reply for a long time, Ataturk sent a mission in May 1920 headed by Foreign Minister Bekir Sami to whom he reported that he had given greater authority to negotiate than to either of the previous two delegations. According to Ataturk, "When the last mission we sent arrived in Erzurum, the

'T.B.M.M., Zabit Ceridesi, vol. 2, (Ankara: T.B.M.M. Matbaasi, 2ND printing, 1940), pp. 205-209 (session of July 8, 1920).

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first mission had gone to Moscow and the second mission that went returned to Trabzon with answers it got from there." 1 Although these missions began with high hopes, their results would do nothing to raise the stature of Communists in Turkey. In reply to the invitation to establish relations, Chicherin wrote in June 1920 that they were happy to initiate relations. The Soviets found Turkish independence natural. But Atatiirk informed the Assembly that he perceived a major sticking point in Chicherin's reply. There was, he explained to parliament with apparent irony, "a small difference" in interpreting the National Pact, the key document that set out the borders of the state for which the Kemalists were willing to fight. That difference involved the question of permitting Islamic peoples "belonging to various races inside our national frontier" to hold a plebiscite. Atatiirk said that, although he had no problem with Syria and Iraq and even Armenians determining their own future, he could not agree for Kurds and Laz to participate in a plebiscite. " Our general principle is that various Islamic elements living inside the bounds we sketched as a national border are our true brothers." That meant also that in the question of eastern Thrace, Atatiirk let the deputies know that Chicherin was applying unwelcome pressure on the Ankara regime when the Russians said that "Thrace will determine its own fate itself." 2 Atatiirk further indicated his displeasure with the reluctance of the Soviet mission that was on its way to Anatolia to hand over to Ankara's men a part of the money they promised. The Soviets argued that because the road taken by the Turks came from Batum, the money could fall into the hands of the English. Atatiirk complained that it had not arrived because evidently the Bolsheviks thought the Turks were promoting a counter-revolution in Azerbaijan. It took time to correct this error and speed the money on its way. Nonetheless, in view of the high stakes in terms of aid, Atatiirk was willing to try to appease the Moscow regime in the Caucasus. The Soviet Foreign Minister had written to offer to help solve politically the question of determining the boundaries of Armenia, Iran, and Turkey through the mediation of the Russian Soviet government. On this basis, Russia did not want the Turkish attack on the Armenians to continue. As a result, after talks between a Soviet delegation with Turkish Foreign Minister Bekir Sami and his mission in Erzurum, Atatiirk stopped the attack on June 20, 1920. He did so in deference to the Soviet need not to be distracted from the goal of combating imperialism, explaining that the Communists "did not shrink from ^ Gizli Celse Zabitlari, p. 72; see also Atatiirk's speech to parliament on Aug. 14, 1920 T.B.M M Zabit Ceridesi, vol. 3 (Ankara: T.B.M.M. Matbaasi, 1941), p. 185. 2 T.B.M.M., Zabit Ceridesi, vol. 3 (Ankara: T.B.M.M. Matbaasi, 1941), p. 185 (session of Aug. 14, 1920.

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declaring war and declaring hostility against the imperialists of the whole world. It was very successful up to now." He then tried to neutralize expected opposition to his policy from Islamists in the Assembly whose support was necessary in the struggle for independence in Anatolia by saying: "The victory that Bolshevism, which contains the highest rules and laws of Islam, obtained today against the joint enemy which threatens our very existence is a result worthy of our gratitude." But, appealing for unity of purpose among Turks, he went on to repeat his standard theme that the policies of the Kemalist nationalist movement should not be confused with those of the Communists: Our point of view and our principles, you all know, are not Bolshevik principles, and we never thought and attempted up to now to have our nation accept Bolshevik principles... Our point of view—i.e., populism—holds that force, power, sovereignty, and rule are given directly to the people and are in the hands of the people. Indeed, there is no doubt that this is one of the world's most powerful and basic principles. Naturally such a principle does not contradict Bolshevik principles.... Our nationalism in any event is not an egoistic and proud nationalism; and, especially because we are Muslims, we have a community feeling from the Islamic point of view that transposes the limited compass which nationalism circumscribes into a limitless field. Especially from this point of view, the Bolshevik course can seem to be in our direction. Bolshevism represents the view of a class of people who are oppressed in a country. Our nation, indeed, is oppressed and tyrannized as a whole. In this regard, our nation, too, is worthy of protection by the forces which are undertaking the salvation of humanity [i.e., the Bolsheviks].1

The Propaganda War The deputies in the Grand National Assembly soon began to see need of greater propaganda in favor of the nationalist movement. And this raised a question of how the government should treat the spread of Communist propaganda in Anatolia. Summoning the General Director of the newly formed General Directorate for Press and Information on September 28, 1920, the deputies asked him about what the Ankara authorities were doing to aid the provincial press. The newly installed General Director, working directly under Ataturk, informed the Assembly that the government was helping newspapers in Anatolia according to their need and was generally assuring them newsprint ^T.B.M.M., Zahlt Ceridesi, vol. 3, p. 189 (Session of Aug. 14, 1920). Ataturk on Sept. 16, 1920, told Western Front Commander Ali Fuad Cebesoy in a telegram that "the internal Communist organization is entirely opposed to us in goals. We must arrest the secret Communist organization." See Dr. Fethi Tevetoglu, Türkiye'de Sosyalist ve Komünist Faäliyetler (19101960), (Ankara: 1967), pp. 119-123.

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at low cost. He acknowledged that one of the newspapers which had already received much government assistance was Seyyare-i Yeni Diinya. It had begun publishing in Eskigehir at the end of the summer 1920 under the slogan "Workers of the World Unite!" Atatiirk then broke in to inform the deputies that, among the newly founded Anatolian newspapers, this organ alone had broken its promise to follow instructions to support his revolutionary movement. Yet, nonetheless, Atatiirk reported that they were considering printing several pamphlets on Bolshevism and the relationship between Bolshevism and Islam.1

Mission to Moscow Soon the Assembly was to hear that the mission to Moscow was proving less than smooth. When in mid-October 1920 the deputies in parliament heard the interim report on Bekir Sami's mission by its second in command, Minister of Economics Yusuf Kemal Tengir§enk, his presentation showed them that cooperation with a Communist regime was replete with dangers and evidences of bad faith. Although Atatiirk and his Foreign Ministry colleagues were aware of the manifold problems because they had been receiving telegrams detailing the course of the negotiations all along, for the deputies at large, this recital presented a new vista of what cooperation with the Communists was like. As this report would have a pronounced impact on their attitudes, it is worth considering in some detail. Tengir§enk explained that the nationalist delegation reached Moscow by train from Warsaw on July 19, 1920, after an unusually lengthy trip. To their intense displeasure, when they arrived the delegates were not met by any dignitaries. Instead they made their way to the Kremlin where the Soviet Ambassador to Bokhara met them to say that all personnel of the Foreign Commissariat were in St. Petersburg for the opening of the Second Congress of the Comintern. They were further told that protocol and traditional diplomatic niceties had been abolished by the Bolsheviks, a foretaste of the style of negotiations to come.2 When Foreign Minister Georgi Vasilievich Chicherin returned from St. Petersburg a few days later, he met with the Turkish delegation. He conversed with them easily in French, while his assistant Leonid Karakhan knew only 'T.B.M.M., Zahlt Ceridesi, vol. 4 (Ankara: T.B.M.M.Matbaasi, 2ND printing, 1942), pp. 345-351 (session of Sept. 28, 1920); see also Seyyare-i Yeni Diinya, Oct. 11, 1920. TBMM, Gizli Celse Zabitlari, vol, 1 (Ankara: TBMM Basimevi, 1980), pp. 158-173 (Session of 16 Oct. 1920), report of Minister of Economics Yusuf Kemal |Tcngirscnkl; PP- 176-187 (Session of October 17, 1920), which was occupied with responses to the report by various deputies. See also, Ali Fuat Cebesoy, Moskova Hatiralari (Istanbul: "Vatan" Nesriyati, 1955), pp. 59-100.

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Russian. Chicherin asked about the agreement the Kemalists had made with the French, saying that that caused Moscow some anxiety. The Turks tried to reassure the Soviets, but noted that no agreement with the French had been concluded before their delegation left Ankara. Chicherin then wanted to know what Ankara was negotiating with the British. The Soviets further asked their opinion on whether there would be a counter-revolutionary movement in the Islamic world to resist revolution against imperialism. Finally Chicherin turned them over to Karakhan to start negotiations. From these questions, it was clear to Tengir§enk's parliamentary audience that the atmosphere in Moscow for the Turks was chillier than they had expected. Then the Turkish mission turned to the central matter for the Turks of how to get supplies to Anatolia. Negotiating with Karakhan was difficult for the Turkish mission. Tengir§enk ascribed this difficulty to the fact that though Karakhan was a committed Communist, he had Armenian blood in his veins.1 Nonetheless, he seemed sincere in his Communist outlook to his Turkish audience. In the talks, the key obstacle arose from the fact that the Armenians blocked a land route between Soviet dominions and the area controlled by the Kemalists. But at first both sides were reluctant to engage on the issue. Talks recessed and the Turks expected Karakhan to set a time for their resumption. Days passed without hearing from him, and, to their obvious intense annoyance, they were told that the Ministry was dealing with extraordinarily important questions which took precedence over their negotiations. They would later find that these included reaching agreement with the Armenians on points that disadvantaged the Turks. In response, the Turkish mission asked Chicherin to assign someone else as negotiator, someone who spoke French. Thereupon the Soviets designated two others to handle the negotiations. These officials started by asking in whose name the Turkish delegation came. That was, of course, not an entirely friendly question. It was even difficult to answer as the Sultan's government still existed in Istanbul. Bekir Sami's mission replied that they represented the Ankara government, provoking the further question of whom did the Ankara government represent. The Turks answered that Foreign Commissar Chicherin had written to Ankara recognizing its government and had even sent an envoy there. Moreover, the Turks pointed out that they had given the Soviets copies of their letters of credence on arrival. The Turkish delegates then announced that they were ready to talk about conditions for an alliance. That ended that day's talks, leaving the Turks less than satisfied.

Galip Kemali Soylemezoglu, Hariciye Hizmetinde Otuz Sene, p. 429, reported that Karakhan was from a "good" Georgian family, not an Armenian. Karakhan would later represent the USSR in Ankara (1934-1937) until he was recalled and executed in Stalin's pre-Second World War purges.

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At their next meeting the Soviets announced that they wanted to talk with principals only, without any note takers. The Turks countered by asking that experts decide questions of quantities of aid and the like, while the principals debated political questions. The Turks wanted to know what was happening in Russia and how the Russians regarded Atatiirk's nationalist movement. In reply, the Soviets upset their Turkish interlocutors by declaring that an alliance was out of the question. When the Turkish side insisted that that was a prime reason for their coming to Moscow, the Soviets asked what Turkey could give to Russia in return for such an alliance. The Turks argued that their adherence to an alliance would give the Kremlin great psychological assistance. The Soviets, who did not accept this line of argument, asked if there would be no alliance, then what would happen. To this, the Turks replied that they could make a different kind of treaty if need be. The Soviets thereupon proposed a treaty of friendship. They maintained that for traditional warring foes such an accord would be more impressive than a treaty of alliance. While the Turkish delegation reluctantly agreed to the Soviet proposition, from the reaction when that news was presented to the Grand National Assembly, it was clear that the Soviet explanation did not satisfy the Turkish audience at home. Discussion then touched on the important question of what borders of the Turkish state Moscow would recognize. The Turkish delegation gave the Soviets a copy of a map showing the borders accepted by the National Pact approved by the Turkish parliament on January 28, 1920, before it moved from Istanbul to Ankara. The map showed Kars, Ardahan, and Batum in Turkish hands. Those borders also reflected those agreed in the Brest-Litovsk Treaty. At that, the Turks and Soviets traded accusations of responsibility for not solving the Armenian question. In this connection the Communists seemed not to understand why the Turks considered it important to control a direct land route between Russia and Turkey. Even Vladimir Ilyich Lenin participated in this discussion, trying to reassure the Turkish negotiators that he recognized that the Soviets had made a mistake in making a treaty with Armenia behind the back of the Turkish delegation while it was in Moscow. Moreover, he acknowledged the error of giving control of a key point along the route to the Armenians. Despite his assurances that nothing hostile to the Ankara regime was intended, the Soviets did not offer to undo their errors and that obviously left a particularly bitter taste for the Turks. Tengirgenk then reported what he termed "a terrible article" which the Soviets had proposed. They had demanded that whatever privileges or sphere of influence the Turks extended to anyone be extended to the Russians as well. The Turks were particularly upset at the economic implications of this most favored nation demand, obviously fearing that in effect it raised the specter of reviving the capitulations. Tengir§enk assured the Assembly that the Turkish

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delegation absolutely refused to consider this article. In justification for this position, the Turkish mission explained to the Russians that "we are shedding our blood today in Anatolia" to reject this principle. Tengir§enk's audience in the Assembly in Ankara clearly shared his view that even to raise such a demand showed ill will toward Turkey. The Turks had better luck in connection with the discussion of Istanbul and the Straits. The Turkish delegates had inserted these issues into the negotiation not because they wanted these matters to be in contention, but principally to probe Moscow's views, as Russian regimes had long coveted these places. Tengirgenk noted that "thankfully we saw that the Russians say...that they are Turkish." Also the Soviets gave up on raising the topic of Black Sea navigation. That would remain for another day well in the future. At this point the Soviets seemed to loose interest in further negotiations. The Turkish delegation judged that this was because Chicherin's mandate focused primarily on issues concerning Western Europe, leaving Karakhan to deal with affairs of the Orient. But Karakhan had delegated his responsibility for negotiating with the Turks to a subordinate who was then unaccountably and suddenly reassigned. That change brought negotiations to a sudden end. Thus on August 24, 1920, Bekir Sami was left to initial the text in two copies which were to be kept secret. Tengirgenk explained that this unsatisfactory conclusion left four important matters unresolved which were of interest to the Turks: the repatriation of former prisoners of war taken by the Tsarist regime; a protocol on trade; regularization of postal relations; and the matter of permitting Muslims in Russia to emigrate to Turkey. He also noted another completely unacceptable demand now advanced by the Soviet negotiators. The Russians tried to insist that the Kemalist regime promise that if the Grand National Assembly were to change "state policy," then Moscow must be informed. The Turks rejected this saying that "you are asking something that violates our independence." To accept this demand while receiving aid would subject the negotiators to the charge that they had "sold out the country." The Russians, after attempting to apply some further pressure on this point, agreed to drop this idea. The Soviet side then continued to press the Turks on the issue of "racial borders." Beyond the issue of Armenia, in which the Turkish delegation rejected Russian mediation on the grounds that the Russians were not impartial, there remained the question of Batum. The Turks parried Russian refusal to agree that it was Turkish by pointing out that in Chicherin's June 3, 1920, letter, he had agreed that the will of the population would determine Batum's fate. That was acceptable to Turkey. When the Russians professed ignorance of the contents of this letter, the Turks showed them a copy and the matter was left hanging.

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As to the all-important question of aid, Tengirgenk explained that the Turkish delegation had finally concluded that specific agreement was immaterial as the Comintern had accepted in principle to extend aid to Turkey. To Tengirgenk and his colleagues that meant that the matter had been decided on even before the Turkish delegation arrived. With that lengthy explanation of how the negotiations in Moscow had gone, Tengir§enk told them that the draft friendship treaty was presented to the Assembly for its debate and approval. The decision to approve was entirely theirs and the document would not go into force unless Ankara approved. Following that explanation, Tengir§enk gave his own impressions of Communism in Russia. He noted the many different Muslim groups in the Soviet state. He reported that these groups say that the Communists gave them freedom, but in fact their incorporation into the Soviet Union was accomplished by the Red Army by force. When Communism is declared, he warned, many bad things happen. The Turkish delegation did not have time to look into all this. Most Communists, he noted were not ethnic Russians but were Georgian and Jewish; those in Azerbaijan were Armenians, not people of Turkish descent. He also commented on the question of the large number of Turkic peoples in the Soviet realm. These peoples, he believed, looked to Turkey. That gave him hope that Turkey would have a great future in the East. According to Tengir§enk, these people consider "Turkey the root" and their groups to be "the branches." Finally, he described Communist administration in Russia. The main difference between it and the nationalist administration in Anatolia in his view was that only peasants and workers could vote or be elected in the Soviet domains. The bourgeoisie were not allowed to take part in elections. That news would not have made the Communist system particularly palatable to his audience in the Grand National Assembly as the Kemalists had been extremely careful not to conduct a social revolution. Instead Atatiirk had based his whole movement on the existing bourgeois élite, not on workers and peasants, though he attempted to minimize all class differences. Tengir§enk ended his extended remarks with the warning that if Turks did not create a robust barrier to attacks, the imperialist world would make Turks their tools. "If Turkey cannot do this, it should think about [joining] the Communist current."

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This long recital occasioned vigorous reaction among the deputies who devoted the next day's closed session to it. In fact, it would form a turning point in the treatment of Communism by the Kemalists. From the speeches it was clear that suspicion of Communist motives had now become the dominant emotion among the deputies. No one spoke in favor of the draft and only one deputy suggested that there was any small room for compromise. It would be no coincidence that Atatiirk announced the formation of his own rival Turkish Communist Party the day after debate on this report concluded. Hasan Fehmi Atag, a deputy from Gumii§hane, led off the responses with the observation that from Yusuf Kemal Tengir§enk's explanations it was clear that "Russia had changed its internal organization, but it did not change its foreign policy." Whatever it had sought during the time of the Tsars, from Peter the Great on, it continued to seek under the Communists. While Turkey had "stretched out its hand in sincere friendship," it seemed to have acted too fast. Russia needed Turkey as much as Turkey needed Russia in A tag's appraisal. Indeed, it was Islamic elements that assured the success of the Russian Revolution, he asserted with considerable exaggeration. In this situation, the amount of aid to Turkey from Russia was trivial and disappointing, in his opinion. He judged that the Turkish delegation had agreed in effect to annul the Brest-Litovsk Treaty, but got little in return. "Just as the British were enemies because they fear pan-Islam, the Russians were enemies because they fear pan-Turanism." In A tag's view, the Soviets merely must hide their hostility now because they are resisting the imperialists. "But can we," he asked, "cut off our interest in the 70 million Turks and Muslims" in Soviet lands? A tag went on to say that "the [twentieth] century is a century of nations." While the Communists profess internationalism, they pursue nationalism. What right do they have, he asked, to speak in the name of the Anatolian people? To applause he added that even the Assembly in Ankara had no right to surrender land without polling public opinion over all the country. Moreover, even if the Assembly rejected the current draft of the Treaty of Friendship nothing would change. For he believed that needing Turkish success against the West, the Communists would extend any aid they could to Turkey. And finally he suggested that "if we give the Russians a firm answer, they will understand that they are not in a position to be independent of us." 1 The deep suspicion of Communist intentions that Tengir§enk's report engendered, permeated the reaction of Mazhar Miifit Kansu representing Hakkan. He flatly stated that "Bekir Sami's assent to give up land in Van and Bitlis provinces reduced the zero the nature and value of this treaty." Then he W'BMM, Gizli Celse Zabitlan, vol, 1, pp. 177-179 (session of Oct. 17, 1920).

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raised questions about the motives of the Russian government in making this proposal. In Kansu's opinion, it was designed to cut Turkey off from the East, that is the millions of Turkic peoples in the Soviet domains. In addition, the Soviets were attempting to extend Armenia after bringing it under Communist control. There was thus no difference between what the Russians proposed and what the West was proposing in respect to Armenia. The Assembly should not agree to give up any land within the borders of the National Pact. It would be "damned" if it did, he said.1 The only one to suggest some room for compromise was Ismail Suphi from Burdur. He cautioned against being stampeded into acting rashly because Russia is a force with arms and an ideology. "War has not disappeared from the world," he reminded his audience. Yet "what happened in Azerbaijan deeply affected me," he said. Therefore, it would not be right to give up land in the Caucasus. Where some adjustment could be made in his view was to guarantee free passage through the Straits for Russia inasmuch as it has long wanted warm water ports. But Turkey had some strengths in negotiation and Russia would not sacrifice millions of Turkic peoples for half a million Armenians. But if in the end some additional sacrifice had to be made, a tiny bit of land in Kars province might just be possible, he suggested. Others in the Assembly showed their disappointment and basically advised the government not to give an inch. When Hacx §iikru representing Diyarbekir proposed to reject the draft entirely, voices in the Assembly indicated that " w e all agree." And even Yusuf Kemal Tengir§enk then interjected that he was not recommending acceptance of the draft. Hamdi Gor from Izmit expressed a common sentiment when he opened his remarks by saying: " I expected much from the Russians. But alas!" 2 In this changed atmosphere of suspicion and doubt, the draft was not ratified. The tenor of this debate, therefore, stood in sharp contrast with the kind and hopeful words that had been said in reference to the Soviet state and Communism in previous Assembly debates. In future, the tone would be one of doubt and suspicion. The vast majority of parliamentarians in Ankara would no longer credit Communism with being a philosophy friendly to the Kemalist regime. Cooperation with the Communists would thus be considered merely expedient and not based on truly compatible aims.

^Ibid., pp. 179-182 (session of Oct. 17, 1920). pp. 182-186 (session of Oct. 17, 1920).

2 Ibid„

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The "Official" Turkish Communist Party It was clearly not a coincidence that the day after this important debate, Atatiirk announced the formation of his own "official" Turkish Communist Party. Later in the Assembly in closed session he explained the rationale behind his action as follows: 1 Communists from abroad were seeking to "insert Russian Bolshevism by various channels" into the heart of Anatolia. Ignorance about Communism provided a milieu in which some believed that Communism would be a saving force for Turks. Intellectuals who knew what Communism was could deal with it. But the people and army generally did not know enough about Communism. Thus the government felt it had to take additional steps. According to Atatiirk, to employ force against Communism was useless. It was not possible to "break the heads of those who call themselves Communist," nor could one expel immediately all who come from Russia. If the Turkish government tried that, it would have to break relations with Russia and could not get aid from that source. Thus "we do not consider it useful to use violent steps against a current of ideas." Atatiirk made clear that in dealing with ideas, one had to reply with ideas. Violence only strengthened erroneous notions. Thus he regarded the enlightening of public opinion as the most beneficial path to solution. "The product of this thought," he explained, "is that a party under the name of the Communist Party was organized in Ankara" by entirely trustworthy comrades. Atatiirk continued: To avoid misinterpretation, I want to explain briefly the mentality that was well known to me of the men who formed this [Kemalist Communist] party.... Those who formed this party had the intellect to explain to the nation what Communism was...But the point to which they were very attentive was that the true author of every kind of social revolution in this country and in this nation, even if harmful, must be the nation.... Also it was to insult and humiliate those who are tools for foreigners creating any revolution in this country. But it was a fine line to condemn Russian Communism without condemning the Soviet regime in Moscow. Hence, Atatiirk tried to emphasize that he was not opposing the Kemalist Eastern policy. "We don't want Communism, but that does not mean that we cannot follow an Eastern policy." Communism must be rejected because "it cannot be reconciled with our religious principles and conditions of life and our social conditions." Yet referring to his officially sanctioned Communist Party he proclaimed to his audience in closed session that "to appear Communist is to assure political 1

Ibid., pp. 333-336 (session of Jan. 22, 1921).

PREPARING

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ends beneficial for the country, not in truth to be Communist or Bolshevik." Finally, he insisted that the Kemalists could not cooperate with any organization that had its center outside of the country. This effort to explain a policy that was inherently confusing did not answer all questions from the deputies. Yahya Galip from Kirgehir admitted that he could not distinguish between "Bolshevism and Communism." In his opinion, neither Russian Bolshevism nor Atatiirk's Communism could bring any advantage to Turkey, but only harm. Moreover, it was "not sensible to mix Bolshevism and Islam." If they were the same, then he suggested that Communists adopt Islam. Otherwise Communism and Bolshevism were not suited to be applied in Anatolia. Foreign Minister Ahmet Muhtar echoed these sentiments and pointed out that unlike Russia, which was struggling against imperialism and capitalism, "we agree with Russia only on the first [that is, the struggle against imperialism]," as there were no large capitalists in Turkey. 1 Indeed, many deputies sought to emphasize the differences between the precepts of Islam and Communist teachings. At the same Assembly session where Atatiirk explained his "official" Communist Party, Vehbi from Karesi lamented that "today Islamic monuments are crushed under the feet of a base enemy." He added, "Damn those who seduce the country....This country wants defense of religion." And Basri from Karesi proclaimed that "our duty is the make Ankara a center of the mind of the Islamic world." He advocated fighting ideas with ideas and logic and stated that the Communists were "leading Islam into the abyss." Hiiseyin Avni Ula§ from Erzurum referring to the Communization of Azerbaijan after the Red Army took over, pointed out that the Russians had put Communist teachers in schools. Communists in Turkey "were inoculated by the Russians. Today the current invading us is the Russian current. It is like a microbe." He warned that these Communists falsely claimed that there was very little difference between Islam and Bolshevism. 2 From all that was said in the Assembly, it was clear that the atmosphere of tolerance of Communism had vanished and in its place the Ankara regime and its parliament had begun to accept the need for action against Communists in Anatolia.

^Ibid., pp. 337-338 (session of Jan. 22, 1921). Ibid., pp. 325-332 (session of Jan. 22, 1921).

2

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Ethem's

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Revolt

A final major event that destroyed the ground that might have allowed Communist activities greater scope in Anatolia was the revolt of Ethem the Circassian at the end of 1920. Ethem was the leader of a Circassian band of irregulars who after parliament opened in 1920 became disaffected with Atatiirk's leadership. He was unwilling to bend to discipline imposed by the Ankara regime and see his forces incorporated into the regular army being organized by the nationalists. From his base of operations in Eski§ehir, which was the site of considerable Communist activity at that time, he challenged the Kemalist regime. He led his irregulars in the most serious revolt Atatiirk had to face during the struggle for independence. This insurrection appeared to be linked to the nascent Communist movement in Eski§ehir. At the very least, Ethem's forces protected Communist propagandists there and urged the workers to join in their revolt. Atatiirk on December 29, 1920, in explaining to a secret session of the Grand National Assembly, the military operations against Ethem, linked him to "the Turkish Communist Party" and to the Russian diplomatic mission which had recently arrived.1 In public, after this uprising was put down early in January 1921 Atatiirk gave a somewhat different account of Ethem's attempted putsch. To an open session of parliament, he claimed that Ethem and his brothers wanted to "deceive the Bolsheviks and to create the impression that it was possible to make a revolution immediately in the country" to seem to be Communist. The appeal to workers to rise did not work, in part because "we knew about it beforehand." On the other hand, "the Bolsheviks understood that these men had no doctrine and precepts." 2 Clearly by this new account, Atatiirk was seeking to limit the damage to relations with the Soviets at a time when his regime was at its weakest: a national army was in the process of formation and the militia which had heretofore formed the backbone of the nationalist forces had just been dispersed as unreliable. And with the most dangerous internal threat to his regime removed, he could afford to give the Soviets a more or less clean bill of health. Moreover, it was now useful to downplay the Communist links of Ethem in public, whatever the truth may have been. The suppression of Ethem's revolt ended the most potent physical threat that Communist inspired elements would pose to the Kemalists. Yet it dramatized the dangers that disloyal elements could pose if left unopposed. It thus created an atmosphere where stronger direct action against Communists in Turkey could be taken without risking the danger of political backlash that up to then Atatiirk had obviously feared.

*Ibid., pp. 286-287 (session of Dec. 29, 1920). For more extensive coverage of these events, see Harris, The Origins of Communism in Turkey, pp. 86-89. F.B.M.M., Zabit Ceridesi, 2nd edition (Ankara: T.B.M.M. Matbaasi, 1944), vol. 7, pp. 160, 227230 (session of Jan. 3 & 8, 1921).

PREPARING

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And to prepare the ground for further action, in February 1921, to the Kemalist standard-bearer Hakimiyeti Milliye newspaper Atatiirk gave a disquisition on Russia and Communism. He was optimistic that the delegation he had sent back to Moscow would eventually negotiate an acceptable agreement in place of the one negotiated by Bekir Sami which parliament had not ratified. When asked about relations between Communism and Russian friendship, he replied forthrightly to his interviewer: Communism is a social question. The situation of our country, the social conditions of our country, and the force of religious and national traditions are of a nature to confirm the opinion that Russian Communism is not suited to be applied in our land. The parties set up on the basis of Communism in our country recently are of the opinion that it is necessary to stop their activities having comprehended this fact by experience. In fact, even Russian thinkers themselves believe that this fact is true for us. Thus our ties and friendship with Russians are concerned only with the principles of unity and alliance of two independent states. 1 In line with this interpretation, government freedom of action against the Turkish Communists became even more pronounced. The wave of arrests in April 1921 of Communists in Ankara resulted in some heavy sentences. Even though to curry favor with Moscow these jail terms were soon commuted and those arrested released, the general approach of the Ankara government was henceforth clear: it would not tolerate any action, however minor, by the Communists inside Turkey to stir up the population. And with the victory of the Kemalists in the struggle for independence and the establishment of the Turkish Republic this position would not only become more firm, it could be applied in Istanbul where a mixed group of minority and local Turkish seekers after Communism were still active.

' jleri, Atatiirk ve Komiinizm, pp. 230-231.

CHAPTER II: Turkish Communism: The Legal Phase

The Bolshevik Revolution in Russia toward the end of 1917 marked the start of interest in Communism in Turkey. The new dogma appealed principally to a handful of intellectuals in Istanbul on the fringes of mainstream politics who were looking for ways to cope with the destruction of the First World War. They believed that major changes in the domestic as well as the international situation were necessary. But interest in this new doctrine also would infect some members of Atatiirk's nationalist movement, who were attracted particularly by the anti-imperialist aspects of Communist philosophy. Members of the non-Turkish minorities (Greeks and Jews, in particular) were well represented in the ranks of the Communist movement from the start. Only a small number of workers were counted among its adherents. Although some members of the irregular militias which formed the backbone of the early forces resisting the Greeks also had Communist leanings, that seemed to be for opportunistic reasons rather than out of conviction. In fact, the response to Communism among the common people was limited. And Communism never became a popular movement in Turkey. Its long-term significance would be its influence on economic attitudes and intellectual thinking in Turkey. Many reasons account for why the party was not able acquire a large following. One of its major obstacles lay in the fact that it was up against AtaUirk who was a master politician, able to capture the allegiance of the Turkish élite and, from the first—as has been made clear— aware of the danger that Communism directed from Moscow might have for the Turkish state. His counter-strokes kept the party as an organization perennially off balance. Efforts to expand the party from the beginning also ran up against the fact that there were relatively few workers in the Turkey of the 1920s and 1930s, though that stratum of society was a primary target of Communist propaganda. Moreover, workers were for the most part traditionally oriented, linked by solidarity ties of family and place of origin. Social control was exercised by heads of affinity groups who were able to keep group members in line. Thus the number of those willing to jeopardize their jobs by joining in agitation was limited. In addition, there was no tradition from Ottoman days of laborers and intellectuals working together for a common cause. It was even much more difficult to communicate a message of revolution to the peasantry, scattered as they were over the surface of Anatolia, with a minimal road system and a generally low level of other means of

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communication. The literacy rate in the villages was miniscule and even mainstream newspapers did not circulate there. A greater obstacle still was the fact that peasants were completely unused to thinking of themselves as able to influence government policy. 1 The religious conservatism of the peasantry in any event made gaining recruits among the rural population an uphill task for the Turkish Communist Party. On another level, the party's difficult task was made all the more arduous by the behavior of the Soviet state that was described in the preceding chapter. In addition, the party suffered from the start from the fragmentation of the Communist movement. Some of those who were attracted toward Communism tended to give it an Islamic tinge radically at odds with those who favored extreme secular Marxism. Nationalism rather than the internationalism of the Comintern formed a potent lodestone for others. Corporatism and some forms of state capitalism found their adherents as well. That was divisive especially because, as a hierarchically organized entity, the Turkish Communist Party increasingly demanded conformity of its members and subservience to the party leadership whether within the country or later abroad. That would lead to frequent purges as well as sharp shifts in the party line to conform to the dictates of Moscow. Intense factional competition between its constituent parts also proved to be the bane of Communist experience. Unlike almost all other Communist movements of the world, the Turkish Communist Party represented the confluence of three entirely distinct streams. The rivalries between these separate groups, which reflected differences in personality and approach as well, have bedeviled the movement all through its existence. Reverberations of this conflict have been perceptible even within the closing decades of the twentieth century in debate within the party. These strains have been all the more intense as until relatively recently the party's chiefs have largely been drawn from the ranks of those who joined in the formative days of the party's early existence. For those "old Turks" the contrasting identities of the original components had particular salience.

Kremlin Loyalists Turkish émigrés and prisoners of war in the Soviet Union began to form a Communist organization in Moscow soon after Lenin came to power. Under the Kremlin's guidance and control, Mustafa Subhi, the main figure in ^Frederick W. Frey, who engaged in polling in Turkey in the 1960s, commented to the author that even at that date when asked what things they would do if they were Prime Minister, peasants in Turkey were unable to visualize having political power. Hence, they typically evaded the question, saying: "But I am not Prime Minister."

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41

this faction, shifted from attachment to economic nationalism along the lines of Ferdinand Lasalle to the Marxist interpretation of Stalin, whose protégé he rapidly became. Subhi's efforts through the Muslim Bureau of the Commissariat of Nationalities to use the Congress of Turkish Left Socialists in Moscow in July 1918 to create a formal Turkish Communist Party proved premature. But he took part in the preparatory meeting to launch the Comintern in December 1918. His speech calling revolution in the East the engine of proletarian revolution in the West was actually delivered at this forum, though it was published in the minutes of the First Congress of the Comintern as though it has been delivered at this later gathering. 1 In this scheme of things, creation of an organization inside of Turkey held a high priority. To further this cause, those involved in Communist organizational work with Turkic peoples in Russia dispatched agents to Istanbul and the Black Sea coast of Anatolia. Copies of Yeni Diinya, the Turkish periodical published by Mustafa Subhi in various locations within the Soviet domains, were sent to Turkey. But until 1920, the difficulties of direct access made contact between the Russia-based party and Anatolia haphazard and sporadic.2 Subhi's own plans to return to Turkish territory were delayed by White Russian advances in the Crimea in 1919. But when he finally reached Baku in May 1920, his organizational talent had been whetted by experience in organizing party activity in Turkestan during the previous year. After abolishing the indigenous Turkish Communist Party which had been set up in Baku under the auspices of former Committee of Union and Progress personalities, he formed his own organization in contact with Moscow. One cannot be sure of Subhi's orientation at this distance, but there is abundant evidence that he began political life as an ardent Turkish nationalist and even at this time he may still have been at heart more a sort of national Communist in orientation than a convinced Stalinist, despite his close association with that Soviet leader. However that may be, Subhi launched a program of education and propaganda among the Turks in Azerbaijan, many of whom were former prisoners of war or émigrés who fled the Young Turk regime. And to accomplish his main goal of promoting his party, he requested permission from Atatiirk to carry on Communist activity into Turkey in exchange for Bolshevik support of the Anatolian struggle for independence.

1 Communist International, Sowjet-Russland und die Volker der Welt: Reden auf der Internationalen Versammlung in Petrograd am 19. Dezember, 1918 (Petrograd, 1920). 2 For a detailed discussion of the legal Communist experience in Turkey, see George S. Harris, The Origins of Communism in Turkey (Stanford: Hoover Institution Press, 1967), passim.

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Without waiting for a positive response from the Turkish authorities in Ankara, Subhi stepped up efforts to organize Communists in Anatolia and issued propaganda from Baku which took a rather hostile line against some aspects of the Kemalist regime. He denounced Foreign Minister Bekir Sami and his delegation that Atatiirk sent to Moscow in July 1920 to seek a treaty of alliance, calling them "masked nationalists."1 At the same time, he invited sympathizers in Anatolia to come to Baku in September 1920 to attend two major gatherings which he hoped to use to mobilize and unify the disparate Communist groupings in the Ottoman domains: the Congress of the Peoples of the East and the First Congress of the Turkish Communist Party which followed immediately on its heels. Effective unity was not to be achieved at these congresses. Many of the participants had only a casual interest in the new movement. Some of the former internees from Russia who attended were seeking merely to facilitate their own return to Anatolia. Others were representatives sent by Atatiirk to monitor the proceedings. But even among the most ardent proponents of the Communist party, rivalries over precedence as well as differences over doctrinal issues prevented anything more than superficial unity. Debate at Baku at the Congress of the Peoples of the East laid bare the contradictions inherent in the emerging Communist doctrine on the definition of and policy toward national liberation movements. In fact, dispute over what constituted a valid national struggle would become one of the principal foci of factional controversy within the Turkish Communist Party all during the Atatiirk era. Wider considerations of common opposition to the West dictated that Subhi call for a popular front from Baku in support of the Anatolian nationalists against the British and their Greek surrogates. Yet the conferees could not pass without insisting as well on the need to organize to take power directly in the name of the proletariat in the long run. The Turkish Communist Party program that was ratified at its Baku Congress showed that the party was strongly under the influence of the Kremlin, echoing standard Communist lines. It started with a highly theoretical explanation of the evils of capitalism which were claimed to have led to colonialism and the exploitation of workers. The program repeated the Leninist theory, dear to Suphi's heart, that revolution in the East had a very important part in stimulating world revolution, but it noted that Turkey was at the initial stage of developing class struggle. In joining the struggle against foreign capitalism in the shape of the Entente, workers were joining "the enemy of the enemy" rather than defending strictly class interests. The Turkish Communist Party was called "first of all a 'worker and farm hand' party," 1

Harris, p. 61.

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E

though in fact it was clearly primarily a party of the élite. Suphi's party, as a member of the Third International, was dedicated to struggle actively against the "international bourgeoisie." It engaged to act as a "vanguard" for working people to show them the path to victory. 1 Celebrating Soviet government as opening a new period in human history, the party program followed the hypocritical Kremlin line that this sort of administration was "a temporary form of government for the transitional period between Communism and capitalism." The party engaged "to work untiringly to establish a worker and peasant Soviet Republic which is the highest form of populism." And it asserted that it would do so through propaganda in the first instance. Wary at this stage of alienating traditionally oriented peasants, the party pledged that religious education would be "subject to the free will of every nation." It promised not to violate the creed of anyone and to assure absolute freedom of conscience. On the important question of national "communities" (the nationality question), the program called the party to seek solutions "to end ancient hostility between revolutionary worker and peasant classes belonging to the various communities." It advocated full freedom of all communities from a linguistic and cultural point of view and made clear its preference for a federation based on "the free union of free communities" in the organization of the Turkish state. And, echoing Lenin's message to Atatiirk earlier that year, it favored a plebiscite as the way to settle whether such communities as the Kurds would be entirely separate and independent or would join in a federation with the Turks. In the economic realm, the program advocated having the major means of production brought under government control. It called for economic activity in general to be conducted under a comprehensive plan which would also embrace economic and political ties with other countries. It demanded that all forms of colonialism and capitulations be abolished. And the party pledged to give needs of women workers special attention. In conducting economic activity, the program strongly endorsed the creation of cooperatives, both for artisans in production cooperatives under party supervision and for workers and peasants in consumption cooperatives. Cooperatives would operate not on the principle of profit, but on that of the well-being of members. The Turkish Communist Party promised that after the establishment of a new social regime, it would seek to bring farming work under Communist principles and would form farming communes. As to banking, this function would be brought under government control, and the party would create a "Peoples Bank" to support manufacturing and trade. The program indicated that in a period when the principles of Communism did not reign in production

1 For the text of the Baku program, see Mete Tunjay, Turkiye'de (Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, 3rd ed., 1978), pp. 403-14.

Sol Akimlar

(1908-1925)

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MOVEMENT

relationships, money could not be abolished. However, money lending practices by the rich to exploit the poor would not be tolerated. The aim of the Turkish Communist Party would be to abolish all taxes levied on working people. Instead, in order to meet government expenses, the party proposed to impose a wealth tax on the rich. In its final sections, the program committed the party to agitate for an 8-hour work day under good working conditions and to oppose the use of drugs, gambling and prostitution. It instructed party members to create cells inside military and police units. Through this mechanism the party pledged to supervise units in the Red Army created to fight for the revolution. And the party committed itself to work for universal education up to age 17 for both males and females. Although it was clear that the party opposed the Ottoman regime, the program was not specific on what relations with the Kemalists should be. Hence, as Subhi and his associates made their way back to Anatolia at the start of 1921, they met with suspicion f r o m Turkish officials. Atattirk was concerned over the Communist potential to challenge his regime, although he obviously felt that to refuse Subhi permission to return would upset relations with the Kremlin. Local commanders in the field were also disturbed over the anti-Islamic thrust of Communist propaganda, despite the program's insistence on freedom of conscience. The more conservative elements of the population, for their part, greeted the Communists with open hostility. Subhi was well aware of this suspicion and tried to dampen it as much as possible. To this end, in Kars in January 1921, he told Ali Fuat Cebesoy, who was on his way to Moscow as ambassador, that the Comintern was "not absolutely determined to apply Communism inside Turkey." Suphi went on to assure his interlocutor that "we do not consider beys and pashas in Turkey [to be] from the bourgeois class. On the contrary, we find them as the closest helpers of the masses of the people." That was an interpretation far from the practice in the Soviet Union and one that echoed Atatiirk's own appraisal of the classless nature of revolutionary Turkey. It was obviously intended to be comforting to the leaders in Ankara. Nonetheless, Cebesoy was not at all fully reassured. He assessed Subhi as "intelligent, sly, and determined." A man of considerable ambition seeking fame, Subhi "wanted to be like Lenin or Stalin" in Cebesoy's estimation. Indeed, in a message to Ankara, Cebesoy indicated his belief that Subhi was committed to "Communism and wants to make its ideas and principles his policy." At the same time, Cebesoy judged that over

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the short run Subhi was willing to work with Atatiirk to fight against the foreign enemy. 1 In this climate of deep mistrust and with perhaps discreet encouragement from Turkish officialdom, demonstrations were mounted against Subhi and his colleagues at every stop in eastern Turkey. At the end of January 1921, when the party reached Trabzon, Subhi and a number of his companions were seized by local conservatives, who murdered the Communists and had their bodies thrown into the sea. The degree of Ankara's official complicity in this affair cannot yet be determined with any assurance. However, it is clear that the destruction of this group of Russian loyalists in the Communist leadership brought to an end the domination of Subhi's group over the Turkish Communist organization. His remaining followers would be absorbed in the Anatolian and Istanbul parties. 2

Anatolian

Primitives

The second principal faction of the Turkish Communist Party reflected a strong overlay of traditionalist attitudes and a less intellectual approach. Based in Anatolia and in only intermittent contact with Moscow or with Subhi's organization in Baku, these largely home-grown Communists of the hinterland often stressed the compatibility of their new doctrine with Islam. In this context, Communist demands for social justice were portrayed as consistent with Islamic injunctions. At the same time, the Anatolian leftists exploited the appeal of the anti-imperialist slant of Communist dogma to a population which was outraged by European imperial designs. A doctrinaire approach compounded of such features had considerable attractiveness for a traditional audience. Hence, a small group of more or less conservative politicians in Anatolia were drawn to this rough-hewn Islamic Communism for a brief moment in the spring of 1920. The climate for the creation of a Communist-style party was fostered by agitators from Baku, led by the Bashkir envoy, §erif Manatov, as well as by native leftists. Building on this foundation, political activists—some of them close to Atatiirk— exploited the burgeoning interest in developments in Russia to stitch together a secret political grouping called the "Green Army" in May 1920. Atatiirk was aware of this activity; however, he claimed not to have been actually involved. The Green Army was not primarily a military force (although its regulations called for it to have its own "fedayeen"), but 1 Ali Fuat Cebesoy, Moskova Hatiralari (21/11/1920-2/6/1922) (Istanbul: "Vatan" Nesriyati, 1955), pp. 40-41. 2 For the official Turkish response to the Kremlin disclaiming any responsibility for Subhi's murder, see The Nation, Sept. 7,1921, v. 113, p. 273.

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apparently it did come to enjoy the allegiance of some Circassian irregular forces. With its anti-imperialist, anti-capitalist Islamic-Communist approach, this organization provided a political umbrella for an upwelling of leftist activity. Its statutes called it a fraternal organization to the Red Army "in accord with Moscow," and it advocated extensive governmental intervention in economic and social life. At the same time, it claimed to respect the family as the basic institution of society. To increase its drawing power, it identified "the path of Right" with the "path of God," and committed itself to an effort "to expel from Asia the self-loving greed coming from the West and to restore the mutual sincerity of the age of salvation [i.e., the era of Mohammed's lifetime] by relying on all the social principles of Islam." And one of its principal slogans was supposed to be the device "Asia is for the Asians" which its regulations enjoined it to affix to its battle flag. These formulations disguised its Communist leanings and attenuated to a degree the natural antipathy that radical secular-style Communism would have been expected to arouse in the traditionalist circles of Anatolia.1 Far from ever being a mass organization, the Green Army would remain an organization of the élite with a membership largely drawn from members of parliament and government officials. Its activities were mostly secret and largely confined to Ankara, with the important exception that it was able to organize a major branch in Eski§ehir. Although the Ankara headquarters was more or less under Atatiirk's control, the Eskigehir branch would in time become an independent source of leftist activity which would cause the Ankara authorities to move sharply against it. While the Green Army movement succeeded in injecting a mild socialistic note into the basic legislation enacted by the wartime parliament in Ankara, some of its activities appeared considerably more extreme. One of its factions, apparently in contact with the Russian embassy, may have been responsible for circulating the extraordinarily radical "Turkish Communist Party General Statutes" which were distributed in Anatolia in June 1920. This program envisaged the administration of the country through a system of "Soviets," the abolition of private property, the nationalization of all businesses, and the eventual elimination of money as a medium of exchange. The authors of this document or the organization that disseminated it cannot be identified with any assurance on current evidence. But if §erif Mantov was in fact involved, as appears plausible, it would provide an additional indication

The regulations of the Green Army stated that "The world is facing revolution... Muslims will profit and will not be harmed by this social revolution, since Islam and the prophet Mohammed laid down and advocated these principles.... Thus one point of our organization is to profit from the Socialist movement and to help it." For a comprehensive treatment of the Green Army, see Tun9ay, pp. 130-52. He reproduces its regulations on pp. 393-97.

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P H A S E

that his band of leftists considered itself a branch of Subhi's Communist Party in Baku. 1 Atatiirk found it difficult to tolerate such extremism in the heart of his wartime capital. Indeed, the links of the Anatolian Communists with Soviet emissaries newly arrived in Ankara increased Atatiirk's perception of the threat from this quarter. The Turks would soon learn that sensitive matters were leaking to the Russians from closed sessions of parliament. The delegation sent by Atatiirk to Moscow in the opening days of the Turkish parliament in April 1920 heard from Chicherin "many things that were very harmful for our national interests and our country if disclosed abroad." The Turkish President indicated that Chicherin was in possession of information that came directly from matters discussed in closed sessions of the Ankara parliament. Though Atatiirk did not specifically name the source in this closed session of parliament, the authorities concluded that these leaks emanated from Nazim Oztelli Resmor who would form the so-called Peoples Communist Party in Ankara in December 1920 with close ties to the Russian embassy. 2 Amid these conflicting imperatives, Atatiirk adopted a policy that sought to neuter the destructive tendencies of the Communist movement, but in ways that would not prevent relatively smooth relations with Moscow. He acted quickly in the summer of 1920 to clip the wings of the Green Army in Ankara. At the start of 1921, he forcibly put down the revolt of Ethem's Circassian partisans who had fallen under the spell of a "Muslim Bolshevik Committee" established in Eski§ehir by §erif Mantov and remnants of the Green Army. But he did not move against the Russian embassy which had been linked to Ethem's movement. And to combat the seductive identification of Communism with Islam, he had Muslim dignitaries issue religious edicts declaring Communism "incompatible with the Koran." 3 Atatiirk's most distinctive response, however, was to set up an "official" version of the Communist Party in order to gain control of this potentially challenging movement. Though he talked about its role in educating the people about Communism, in fact, the main effort of this party was directed abroad at gaining Moscow's recognition as the legitimate representative of Communists in Turkey. After some months, however, once Moscow had rejected the request of this tame party to be accepted by the Third International.

^A translation of these statutes, which suggest the fervor of wartime C o m m u n i s m in the Soviet Union, is in Harris, pp. 149-52. 2 T B M M , Gizli Celse Zabitlan Feb. 1, 1921).

vol. l(Ankara: T B M M Basimevi, 1980), pp. 3 5 6 - 3 6 2 (session of

3 S . Velt'man, "Novaia Turtsiia v e otrazheniiakh anatoliskoi pressi," Novyi p. 643.

Vostok,

1922, no. 2,

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And when the nationalists in Ankara had concluded that the initiative had outlived its usefulness in sowing confusion, it was disbanded.1 Nonetheless, Atatiirk could not immediately end the challenge of the Anatolian Communists. A group of leftist parliamentarians, who had been active in the Green Army, took advantage of the confusion in parliament and managed to elect Nazim Resmor as Minister of Interior in September 1920. Because of Resmor's links to the Soviet mission as well as his contacts with Mustafa Subhi in Baku, Atatiirk felt it necessary to intervene personally to countermand this appointment and to explain to the assembled deputies the dangers he saw in such foreign ties.2 Undaunted, however, this group at the initiative of §erif Manatov set about organizing the Peoples Communist Party of Turkey, to which the government reluctantly accorded an official permit to operate on December 7, 1920. Recognizing the almost complete absence of industrial workers in rural Anatolia, the new party gave a significant emphasis to the peasantry, which it envisaged as a potentially revolutionary force. In fact, the organization's adherents, on the other hand, were drawn almost entirely from the political élite. Calling itself the product of the combination of the "secret Communist Party" and the Green Army "populists," the new organization reprinted inflammatory articles from the journal Ziya, published by Turkish Communists in Bulgaria. The Peoples Communist Party frankly stated its uncertainty that Atatiirk would keep Turkey on a positive tack in future and called for an economic war against capitalists in Anatolia once the foreign foe had been vanquished. The party strongly professed its attachment to the international Communist movement; indeed, it was promptly admitted into membership in the Comintern as a second body representing Communists in Turkey in addition to the organization set up by Mustafa Subhi.3 Although the newly established Peoples Communist Party does not appear to have responded to overtures by Ethem's Circassian insurgents who rose in armed defiance of Atatiirk at the end of 1920, it was soon suspended by the Ankara government for alleged involvement with Ethem's partisan bands. The party's leadership was arrested early in 1921 and convicted on charges that included unauthorized links to foreign powers, meaning contact with Moscow. ^Tunfay, p. 169, presents a schematic rendition of the "official" party's table of organization. For Atatiirk's own explanation of the "official" party, see, Chapter 1 above. 2 All £ankaya, Yeni Miilkiye Tarihi ve Mulkiyeliler (Ankara, Mars Matbaasi, 1968-1969, vol. 3, pp. 405-406, gives a biography of Nazim Resmor. The claim that Resmor was jailed until 1935, however, is incorrect. For the parliamentary debate on lifting NSzim Resmor's immunity, see TBMM, Gizli Celse Zabitlari, vol. 1, pp. 356-63 (session of Feb. 1, 1921). 3 For a facsimile edition of the first issue of the Peoples Communist Party's original organ, Ernek, see Ali Ergin Guran (ed.), Tiirkiye Halk igtirakiyyun Firkasi Yayin Organlan I (Istanbul: Katki Yayinlan, Belgesel Sosyalizm Serisi, no. 2, 1975), pp. 1-17.

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But as a result of strong Soviet representations, the Ankara government permitted the Peoples Communist Party of Turkey to resume operations in March 1922. Again under the direction of Nazim Resmor, the party began to publish a new theoretical journal, Yeni Hayat, which presented a varied menu of Islamic and Communist subjects. 1 The Peoples Communist Party, however, had lost critical momentum by its suspension. Although the Anatolian Communists now showed far greater circumspection than in their initial days, even specifically supporting the National Pact which earlier they had questioned on grounds of selfdetermination for ethnic groups in Anatolia, they continued to offend the Kemalists. As a result, the Ankara government severely restricted party activities and in August 1922 refused permission for a Communist Party congress in Ankara with international participation. 2 This gathering, which was nonetheless held in mid-September 1922 with representatives from European Communist parties in attendance, was celebrated with considerable exaggeration as the Second Congress of the Turkish Communist Party. Its participants were obliged to meet on the premises of the Soviet Embassy to get around the Kemalist ban. While two German Communist observers on the scene reported that it was attended by some 30 delegates, including intellectuals, workers, and "two peasants," there is no indication that major figures from Istanbul attended. Thus, despite the international tinge that appeared especially provocative to the Kemalist regime, the Congress had a decidedly local character.3 As if this defiance of Ankara were not risky enough, the Peoples Communist Party's chances for survival were further jeopardized when Moscow greeted the Kemalist victory over the Greeks in September 1922 with the pronouncement that Turkish workers would eventually have to turn against the Anatolian government. Ataturk responded by closing Yeni Hayat for criticizing the Kemalist leaders in November 1922. Nazim Resmor was arrested and his party was closed. This time ignoring the protests of Soviet organs and the Comintern, the Ankara authorities refused to allow the party to reopen.4

1 Yeni Hayat began publishing on March 18, 1922. It was closed after an editorial on Sept. 24, 1922, was deemed to have threatened the government. See Tungay, pp. 510-514. Ahmet Akmci, "Öldtiriilmelerinin 47-inci yildönümti münasebetiyle MUSTAFA SUPHÍ'leri amyoruz," Yeni fag, Jan. 1968, pp. 70-74. 2

%or the German report on the Congress, see Leonid & Friedrich, Angora: Freiheitskrieg der Türkei (Berlin: Vereinigung Internationaler Verlagsanstalten, 1923), pp. 56-68. See also Harris, pp. 112-13. 4 The Ankara court decision issued on Aug. 9, 1923 is in Tungay, pp. 510-514.

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As a result, although the leaders of the Peoples Communist Party were sentenced to only short terms in jail in the summer of 1923, its members henceforth had only two choices: they could either meld themselves into the Communist movement based in Istanbul, which operated outside of the capital and thus presented a less immediate threat to the regime, or (like Nazim Resmor) they could withdraw from political life entirely. In either event, the impact on the Turkish Communist Party was clear. The initiative in future had passed to the Istanbul wing.

Istanbul

Sophisticates

European, especially French, intellectual Marxism cast the spell under which the Istanbul faction of the Turkish Communist Party began its operations. Significantly, the Istanbul organizers were of diverse national origins: ethnic Greeks and Jews played a disproportionate role all through the first decade of the party's existence. These non-Turkish elements became particularly active in Istanbul after the British extended their military occupation in March 1920. The celebrated Communist of Greek ethnic origin, Serafim Máximos, for example, established a so-called "International Union of Workers" at the end of 1920, but few Turks joined.1 Another prominent ethnic Greek, Nikos Asimopulos, in 1919 played an active part in the formation of the Istanbul Port Workers Union and joined the Turkish Communist Party in 1921. He played an important role in the underground publication Kokkini Neolea and helped organize the Worker and Student Youth League in the Ottoman capital as well. He is said to have been one of the organizers of the first May Day demonstration to agitate against "foreign imperialists" in Turkey.2 Communist activity among Istanbul's Turkish population developed slowly. The Turkish Worker and Peasant Party, which was to serve as a front organization for the Communists until 1925, was first conceived by Turkish students in Germany in September 1919 under the impress of postwar revolutionary ferment there. After its transfer to Istanbul later that year, the party added the appellation of "Socialist" to its name and §efik Hüsnü Deymer, a disciple of the French radical socialist Jean Jaures, took over its leadership. Deymer was the son of Salonika notable Hüsnü pasha, hence from a quite privileged family. He explained that his conversion to Communism had taken place while a student in Europe by hearing personally the speeches of Communist leaders. At his direction, the Turkish Communists set up their ^Future Greek Communist Party Secretary General Nikos Zakhariades also cut his Communist eye teeth in activity in the International Union of Workers. For information on the constituent unions that comprised this organization, see Tunçay, pp. 314-16. 2 See Yeni Çag, no. 3(45), March 1968, pp. 235-326.

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own tiny labor union, the Turkish Worker Association, and published an intellectual journal, Kurtulu§, for their predominantly élite membership. 1 To judge from the eclectic contents of this theoretical publication, of which five issues appeared on a somewhat irregular schedule over the ensuing six months, party discipline was all but nonexistent. Even Deymer, in his two articles on the proletariat, followed a line quite innocent of Leninist formulations. He described at length the economic forces he identified as impoverishing the poorer peasants and enlarging the work force in the cities. And he called on the intellectual élite to show its humanitarian concern by teaching Turkey's nascent proletariat lessons learned from the struggle in industrial states. To him, organization and the fostering of class consciousness were the keys to success. Hence, he deplored the tendency of the masses to remain aloof from worker movements out of hope of being able to enter the bourgeois class themselves. Only when the masses learned who they were and came together could the power of capitalism be destroyed, he wrote. 2 The British military occupation of Istanbul in 1920 interrupted Communist activity. The Turkish Worker and Peasant Party's organ was closed and most of the leaders of the Turkish wing left for Anatolia. Some would answer Mustafa Subhi's summons to Baku, where they would ratify the formal junction of the Istanbul Communists with his Russia-based organization. Deymer, however, remained in Istanbul with a f e w close associates. He later justified his failure to join the core of opposition in Anatolia to the British and to the Sultan by claiming that he had been determined to keep in touch with Turkey's only significant concentration of workers who were in the Ottoman capital. In defending this position, he argued that he had then been under the impression that, as in Russia, social revolution would depend on the allegiance of workers, since the peasants were completely lacking in class-consciousness. 3 In fact, however, Deymer's reluctance to leave Istanbul must have had less to do with unwillingness to abandon the workers than a pragmatic recognition that remaining in Turkey's only intellectual center was essential if he wished to maintain his position in the struggle for leadership of the inchoate Communist movement.

See the obituary of his sister, Leman Deymer, in Milliyet, Nov. 20, 1974. That obituary also shows that Selâhi Birizkent, was a brother of §efik Hiisnii Deymer. Abidin Nesimi, Turkiye Komunist Partisinde Amlar ve Degerlendirmeler: 1909-1949 (Istanbul: Promete Yaymlan, 1979), pp. 114, 156, 162, identifies Selâhi Birizkent as part of §efik Hiisnii Deymer's group. For the trial in which Deymer explained his conversion to Communism and early activity, see "Instruction, par la Cour criminelle, des procès des communistes," Le Milliett, Jan. 17, 1928. 2 S e e his "Yarinki Proletarya," Kurtulus, no. 2, Oct. 25, 1919, pp. 117-21; and his "Biigùnku Proletarya ve Simf §uurunu," ibid, no. 3, Nov. 29, 1919, pp. 46-47. 3 S e e Mihri Belli's introduction to §efik Hiisnii Deymer, Seçme Yazilar (Ankara: Aydinhk Yayinlari, no. 6, 1971), p. 14. Deymer, years after the event, admitted to Belli that his refusal to go to Ankara was a mistake, inasmuch as "at the start, at least, a broader union of forces with Mustafa Kemal [Atatiirk] could have been assured. We were, in fact, fellow townsmen. We had many mutual friends. In our country, such personal ties can be influential, at least for the short run."

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In any event, under the influence of Henri Barbusse and the French Communist Party, with which the Istanbul leftists maintained direct contact, Deymer's group apparently established the nucleus of a clandestine Turkish Communist Party about September 1920. It also reactivated the Turkish Worker and Peasant Socialist Party and on June 1, 1921, began the publication of a new theoretical journal, Aydinlik, patently modeled on Barbusse's Ciarte and steeped in its élite intellectual approach.1 The Communists remaining in Istanbul, however, were not immune to the ethnic discord between Greek and Turk fanned by the Greek invasion of Anatolia in those years. Competition for the allegiance of the labor movement complicated the development of Communist activity. The Turkish Worker Association's effort in 1921 to unite labor organizations in Istanbul under its leadership failed to bring even Communist-led unions together in any lasting way. Indeed, the International Union of Workers under Máximos actively sought to sabotage this initiative. Yet there was no formal break between the Greek and Turkish wings. While Máximos and a number of other prominent figures from the Greek community left Turkey in 1923 amid a general exodus of ethnic Greeks after the Turkish victory in the struggle for independence, it was not until the 1930s that all important agitators of Greek extraction were impelled to emigrate in the face of pressure from the Ankara authorities. Only then did the Communist Party become for all practical purposes a Turkish ethnic organization for the first time.2 Even inside of the Turkish wing of the Istanbul movement, however, ideological unity proved elusive. Moderate nationalists with a social justice orientation mingled with socialists propounding the radical transformation of society. Some saw labor agitation as the appropriate focus of action. §efik Hüsnü Deymer, whose leadership role was nonetheless widely accepted within Communist circles, favored a scholastic analysis of Marxist principles and careful organizational work over hortatory and ringing appeals to action. Although workers were ostensibly his audience, his message was highly intellectual, pitched for the most educated and sophisticated of the élite. Nor did he ever abandon this general approach, even if at times his party adopted inflammatory slogans or adjusted the content of its message to please the Kremlin. Before the victory of the Kemalists in Anatolia, Deymer's articles in Aydinlik sought to lay the basis for a Marxist understanding of classes and social revolution in Turkey. Attempting to adapt classical Marxism to Turkey, 'On Aydinlik and Clarté, see Harris, pp. 100-101. Nikos Asimopulos was one of the last to go. See his obituary in Yeni Çag, no. 3 (45), March 1968, pp. 235-36. He emigrated in 1933.

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he attributed the emergence of inequalities in society primarily to the existence of private property. But he accurately recognized that wealth for Turks came from political privilege and not from economic activity, which was largely in the hands of the minority communities. This diagnosis led him to regard the petty bourgeoisie as the key to change in Turkey, despite what he saw as its attachment to the status quo out of the hopes of its members to improve their material and social standing. While Deymer did not deny that the urban proletariat might be able on its own to gain sufficient class-consciousness to arouse the somnolent peasants if given enough time, he argued that the support of the petty bourgeoisie was likely in Turkey's case to provide a more efficient transition to the eventual classless society he desired. Doubting that for a long time it would be possible for a reformist regime to survive without the cooperation of the petty bourgeoisie, he thus opposed measures that would discourage artisans and small entrepreneurs from investing or modernizing their enterprises. Yet in a bow to Marxist orthodoxy, he at the same time acknowledged in principle the great revolutionary potential of the peasantry, calling it "the true foundation stone of the new structure" that would be erected after the revolutionaries seized power. 1 All during the military occupation of Istanbul by the British, Deymer's interpretation reflected this highly Utopian character. For example, he waxed eloquent on the program a revolutionary regime would carry out, citing the need to develop state capitalism and institute industrial and agricultural collectives in order to woo the peasants and discourage counterrevolution. Talk of the withering away of government and the inevitability of historical dialectics seemed designed to compensate for the absence of specifics about how to achieve or organize for revolution. For most of this period, the Istanbul Communists wrote little that would excite British censorship. Only at the very end of the British occupation did Deymer venture an analysis of populism (evidently directed at explaining the political currents in Anatolia where Atatiirk's movement was commonly referred to as "populist"). His article was deleted by the censor in its entirety. The British may have been especially sensitive because Deymer was dealing with a political cause which challenged the legitimacy of the Istanbul government. In this issue of Aydinhk as well, other writers apparently took what the British regarded as a more aggressive stance than before and also ran afoul of the censor. 2

'See, for example, his "Tiirkiye'de Inkilâbin sekli," Aydinlik, no. 5, Nov. 1, 1921, pp. 130-34. Dr. §efik Husnu [Deymer], "Halkçiliga dair Miilâhazat," Aydinlik, no. 9, Sept. 20, 1922, p. 226. Aside from the title, the page was left blank with only Deymer's signature printed at the bottom. 2

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The Communists and the Kemalist Movement With the victory of the Kemalists in Anatolia in September 1922, the line of the Istanbul party began to change. Lenin's name figured in its literature with increasing frequency. But the dominant new theme reflected the political reality that the Kemalists now wielded power. That opened a longstanding debate among the Communists over how progressive a social force Atatiirk's movement was and how far Communists could support it. In an initial analysis, Deymer probably expressed a nearly unanimous Communist view in praising the defeat of the Greeks as a defeat of imperialism, "a true liberation struggle," causing pleasure to "all like us who love right and the independence of nations." And Deymer added his fervent hope that after victory the Anatolian leaders would help workers and peasants to use all their rights.1 Nonetheless, Deymer confessed his lack of confidence in the ultimate orientation of the Kemalist regime. Arguing that it was necessary to devise and publicize the ideology of conscious social reform, he pronounced that those educated under the old regime who had partaken of its "blessings" could not be expected to carry out this task. Only youth who had been trained in new ways could be counted on, he believed, to have the necessary social awareness. In their confidence that youth would defend their respective revolutions, his views and those of Atatiirk converged, though the two came at the problem from different directions. 2 And this line of argument also foreshadowed a notorious article by Nazim Hikmet toward the end of the decade which raised the hackles of nationalist intellectuals around Atatiirk. The initial acts of the Kemalists as they established control over Istanbul in November 1922 confirmed Deymer in the view that Atatiirk was leading merely a bourgeois revolution. As the Communist leader wrote at the time, "the Anatolian revolution is very far from satisfying those who believe that there is no way to save this country except a radical social revolution." Nevertheless, he added, "we must say that this revolutionary initiative [Kemalism], which we very much hope is sincere, is a great step forward from the point of view of its present leadership, although we believe it will not be able to resolve in future many questions that must be resolved." As a result, he made clear that for all its failings the Kemalist regime should be defended against conservative and traditionalist attacks.3

^Dr. §efik Hiisnii [Deymer], "Hakiki Inkilaba Dogru," Aydinlik, no. 11, Dec. 10, 1922, pp. 27479. 2 Dr. §efik Hiisnu [Deymer], "Turk Munevverleri," Aydinlik, no. 10, Nov. 1, 1922, pp.250-52. 3 Dr. §efik Hiisnu [Deymer], "Anadoludan Gelen Fikirler Etrafindaki Miinakagalar," Aydinlik, no. 10, Nov. 1,1922, pp. 265-67.

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As time went on, however, Deymer would state more and more categorically his view that "our struggle is not over." When he discerned moves by the Ankara authorities that required total subjugation and total conformity to the new regime, he urged his supporters to resist. Although buoyed initially by unrealistic hopes that the new parliament in Ankara would reject private enterprise as the guiding philosophy of the Kemalist state, Deymer had no illusions that Atatiirk would extirpate capitalism or move to anything approaching a classless society. Indeed, the prominent role that minorities were still playing in Turkey's economy strengthened Deymer in his view that Europe was continuing to try to enslave Turkey. Thus he persisted in his fear that the capitulations would be reimposed, despite Atatiirk's clear resolve not to make concessions in this regard. To escape this danger, Deymer called for Turkey to cooperate with "the Revolutionary East" as he saw the republics of the Caucasus doing.1 Deymer's ambivalence toward the Kemalists and his uncertainty that they would be able to preserve political independence from the West was echoed in confusion within the Comintern on how to evaluate Atatiirk's movement. The Fourth Congress of the Communist International in November 1922, which finally directed the various Communist groups in Turkey to combine into one single organization, was the scene of vigorous debate on this matter. Karl Radek took a position more or less congruent with Deymer's general view. Like the Istanbul leader, he deplored the arrests of Turkish Communists, but he made clear that the responsibility for these actions against the party lay on the shoulders of the conservative faction among the Kemalists, specifically Rauf Orbay and Refet Bele, and he largely absolved Atatiirk from blame. Radek also indicated that the path to Communism in Turkey would be long and he cautioned that no early effort to seize power should be contemplated. Indeed, he left no doubt that cooperation with the revolutionary wing of the Kemalists against the imperialists and reactionaries should be the order of the day.2 Others in the Comintern took a position less favorable to Atatiirk's movement. "Orhan," a Turkish delegate at the Fourth Congress protested Ankara's treatment of the Peoples Communist Party of Turkey. He insisted that Atatiirk's regime could not be considered revolutionary any longer, arguing that the Anatolian nationalists had fallen into the clutches of the European imperialists, at least since Ankara had accepted the British invitation to the London Conference in February 1921. The Turkish delegate attacked Atatiirk for pursuing a two-faced policy to deceive the Soviet leadership as ^Dr. §efik Hiisnii [Deymer], "Hakiki Inkilaba Dogru," Aydinlik, no. 11, Dec. 10, 1922 pp 27479.

9

Communist International, Fourth Congress of the Communist International (London: Southwark Press, n.d.), pp. 221-22

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well as the Turkish Communists. While "Orhan" complained of sabotage by Serafim Máximos and the International Workers Union, he cited incidents of worker solidarity with the Communists as validating the policy of a united front of all labor organizations.1 In the end, the Communist International as a whole came down on the suspicious side. On November 20, 1922, the Congress, no doubt at the behest of Deymer, issued an appeal "To the Communists and Working masses of Turkey," which warned that "the nationalist government of Ankara is ready to come to terms with the imperialists at the price of ... dissolving the Communist Party and suppressing all its organizations, by making whole sale arrests and maltreating our imprisoned comrades in barbarous fashion, and finally by suppressing the Turkish labourers' Union in Constantinople (sic)." The appeal added that "the Fourth Congress of the Communist International protests vigorously against this barbarous act.... Comrades, the Third International considers it its essential duty to do everything in its power to rescue you from the hands of your hangmen."2 Comintern fears were further fanned by the hiatus in the negotiations at Lausanne to end Turkey's national struggle against the Greeks early in February 1923. Ismet ínonü had parried the demands of the Great Powers for concessions to the point that negotiations broke up while the Grand National Assembly elaborated new peace proposals of its own. During this two-month period before the Conference reconvened, the fate of the Lausanne talks seemed to hang in the balance. Especially to outside observers, it was not clear where the new Turkish regime was heading. In this situation, the prominent Indian Communist M. N. Roy expressed deep doubts that the Ankara regime could maintain its political independence in view of "the social character of bourgeois nationalism" which he saw inclining its leaders to "compromise," in order "to preserve the social status quo." Roy's view held that "the whole show at Lausanne was run, not to sign a peace treaty with the Sovereign State of Turkey, as it was ostensibly declared to be, but to strike a bargain between French and British imperialism over their respective shares in the exploitation of the Near East." He believed that Turkey was used merely "as a pawn." He concluded, therefore, that "the sinister design to perpetuate imperialist domination in Turkey can only be 'ibid, pp. 235-39. A more complete text is in United States, House of Representatives, Hearings before a Special Committee to Investigate Communist Activities in the United States, June 17, 1930, Part 3, vol. 2 (Washington: Government Printing House, 1930), pp. 689-92. The delegate who spoke under the alias "Orhan," was said by Bilal §en from inspection of the Comintern archives to be Sadrettin Celal Antel. See his Cumhuriyetin ilk Yillarinda TKP ve Komintern ili§kileri (Istanbul: Kiiyerel Yayinlari, 1998), p. 46. 2 Alix Holt & Barbara Holland (trans.), Theses, Resolutions and Manifestos of the First Four Congresses of the Third International (London: Humanities Press, 1980), pp. 318-19.

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frustrated by a resolute struggle along revolutionary lines" and he asserted that "the final liberation of the Turkish people demands more revolutionary leadership" than was currently provided by the Kemalists. These conclusions were seconded by Bulgarian Comintern commentator Christo Kabaktschieff. The latter advised the Turkish Communist Party to "unmask the Turkish nationalist bourgeoisie, and fight against its policy of exploitation and against every attempt of the Turkish bourgeoisie to subjugate foreign peoples and to come to agreement with European imperialism." 1 The debate between Communists inside and outside Turkey over how to evaluate Kemalism was punctuated by new waves of arrests of Communists that Atatiirk undertook in March 1923 and repeated in May of that year. Ankara charged these Communist Party figures with "inciting to revolt" at least partly in reaction to the increasingly Bolshevik cast of Turkish Communist propaganda. Aydinlik had in line with Comintern dictates moved away from its French orientation and emblazoned on its cover for May Day 1923 the slogan "Workers of the World Unite!" This device was to become a regular feature of Communist publications thereafter. The impact of these trials on Deymer and his colleagues in the summer of 1923, however, was considerably attenuated by the fact that the court ended by dismissing the charges against them. The judges accepted the argument that the Treason Law, under which the prosecution had taken place, had not been properly promulgated in Istanbul. Ankara's interest in propitiating Moscow may have been instrumental in obtaining this result. Remnants of the former Peoples Communist Party of Turkey in Anatolia, who were tried in Ankara at the same time, however, were not able to sustain the same defense. A number of these Anatolian figures were sentenced to short terms in 1923. And this disparity of treatment merely added to the latent rivalry between these two wings. 2 Despite these vicissitudes, Deymer and the Communists behind the Turkish Worker and peasants Socialist Party continued to advocate supporting the Kemalists in the elections of 1923. Deymer himself explained somewhat defensively that the weakness of the socialist current necessitated walking "hand in hand for a long time" with the Kemalists in opposition to "black reaction." Indeed, Ankara's moves to disqualify supporters of the Sultan from the parliamentary elections held that year apparently encouraged Deymer again to an overly optimistic belief that the Turkish Grand National Assembly

N. Roy, 'The Lausanne Conference," Inprecor, vol. 3, no. 16, Feb. 15, 1923, p. 125; Cli. Kabaktchieff, "The Situation in the Balkans," ibid, vol. 3, no. 18, Feb. 20,1923, p. 140. ^Harris, pp. 124-25.

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might itself take steps toward preparing the social transformation the Communists advocated.1 In this atmosphere, Deymer advanced a relatively moderate program of parliamentary action. He demanded a lifting of martial law and the abolition of all measures that restricted freedom of the press and speech. He resurrected his earlier advocacy of the nationalization of all natural resources and the creation of state-run economic enterprises in order to compete with foreign capital, adding the new feature of calls for the nationalization of foreign trade in line with the provisions of Suphi's party program of 1920. While this package of steps went further than Ankara was yet ready to consider, these ideas were not wildly out of tune with the times and even evoked a certain resonance in Turkey. They sowed seeds that would mature in coming years. Deymer's return to the concept of peasant collectives, also in Suphi's program, however, clearly went far beyond anything the Kemalists would countenance even years later.2 Deymer's menu of reforms relied heavily on changes in laws rather than on the violent seizure of power as its cutting edge. In deference to Comintern dictates, the Istanbul Communists might acknowledge the need for workers to come to power by radical steps if conditions permitted. But tacitly Deymer recognized that the times were not ripe for such a move, and he left no doubt that backing the Kemalists was the only practical recourse to promote at least modest social reform. Indeed, he was willing to be content at the start with a demand merely that the Kemalists set up committees of experts to advise parliament in order to prevent passage of legislation harming worker interests. He particularly cited the need to avoid a repetition of such mistakes from the Communist perspective as the law regulating the Zonguldak Workers Association, which allowed government officials and representatives of management to participate in this labor organization.3 The perplexity of the Istanbul Communists over how to deal with Atatiirk's movement was also reflected in the shifting perception of Ankara's commitment to reform. The appointment of Fethi Okyar as prime minister in August 1923 was read in Communist circles—as indeed it was elsewhere—as an indication that the Kemalists were abandoning ideas of further reform. Yet hardly had this interpretation taken hold, with expressions of concern even by Deymer lest the Ankara regime amend the constitution to move toward Mussolini's style of fascism, when instead Atatiirk maneuvered parliament 'Dr. §efik Hüsnü [Deymer], "Intihabat ve Yoksul ve Orta Halli Siiuflar," Aydinlik, no. 15, May 1923, pp. 383-85. 2 Dr. §efik Hüsnü [Deymer], "§eni Millet Meclisinden Halk Ne Bekliyor," Aydmlik, no. 17, Aug. 1923, pp. 437-41. 3 Ibid.

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into declaring a Republic in Turkey in October 1923, a political act that caught both friend and foe off balance. Mired in internal dispute over the nature of the Kemalist regime, the Aydinlik group was unable to respond rapidly to this unexpected step, although it moved Turkey on a track which the Communists themselves had been demanding. 1

Controversy with the Comintern While the twists and turns of Atatiirk's policies helped perpetuate a divergence of view among the Communists in Turkey, the Comintern leadership abroad now became increasingly suspicious of Ankara. In part, the Third International commentators judged that Atatiirk's initial willingness to grant an extensive railroad and mineral concession to the American Admiral Chester and his associates in 1923 justified their deepest forebodings about Turkey's inability to maintain its economic independence. And the provisions of the Lausanne Treaty of August 1923, by which the Turks accepted responsibility to repay a portion of the Ottoman debt, clinched the case for the Comintern critics that Turkey was moving back into the clutches of the imperialists. Thus, by the end of 1923, the leaders of the Third International stood in some contrast to the Communists inside Turkey in the strength of their emphasis on the dangers that Atatiirk and his movement presented to the Communist Party and its mission. 2 From this perspective, the refrain of Deymer and his group appeared quite out of tune. Deymer's besetting sin was not only what was considered an unrealistic dependence on legalism. More particularly, his persistent argument—which the Kadroists would later make the cornerstone of their movement—that Turkey must develop state capitalism to speed its historical development to prepare the ground for eventual social revolution struck a sour note in the Comintern's ears. Deymer had first raised the need for state capitalism in November 1921, but it was not until mid-1923 that he advanced this thesis in detail in an article asserting that Turkey was different from Europe in the matter of social revolution. To foil Western capitalism, he suggested that all elements in Turkey had a common interest in working as one to oppose this menace. Thus, in line with Atatiirk's own formulation that Turkey had no class conflict because it was oppressed as a whole by the imperialists, Deymer defined class conflict in Turkey as a "national struggle" against foreign capitalists and their local agents. More specifically, as he wrote at the start of 1924: ' Ibid. For the Comintern critique of the Chester concession, see Arthur Rosenberg, "The New Conference in Lausanne," Inprecor, vol. 3, no. 36 (16), Apr. 26, 1923. See also his 'The SoCalled Peace of Lausanne," International Press Correspondence, vol. 3, no. 55, Aug. 9, 1923, pp. 585-586. Soviet Foreign Minister Chicherin in May 1923 called the Lausanne Treaty "a clash between two worlds" that represented a "huge diplomatic success for Turkey." USSR, Ministerstvo Inostrannykh Del SSSR, Dokumenty vneshnei politiki SSSR, vol. 6, Moscow: Izdatel'stvo politicheskoi litcratury, 1963, pp. 304-305. 2

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The need to go forward rapidly explains to us the impossibility of reaching our goal by the individual efforts of local capitalists. The sole way to make great progress in the field of production in a short time is for the state itself to direct our national efforts toward a joint and specific goal. In a word, we must set ourselves to build state capitalism without losing time. This is the solution.1 This thesis elicited strong reaction from the Comintern. Comrade Manuilsky, in a speech on the national-colonial question at the Fifth Congress of the Third International on July 1, 1924, discussed the need in Turkey to decide what the attitude of the Turkish Communist Party should be toward the national bourgeoisie which had come to power, in his words, "with the help of a revolutionary wave from below." He took direct aim at Deymer's concept, terming it a "serious tactical mistake." He noted that Aydinlik, which he openly called "the organ of the Turkish Communist Party," had published a series of articles supporting "the development of national capitalism against foreign capitalism." This deviation, which Manuilsky compared to "the legal Marxism of Mr. Struve," was branded a confusion between "developing the productive forces of Turkey" and "developing capitalism." While Manuilsky claimed that the Turkish party had recanted its faulty line, he proclaimed that it was necessary to formulate "instructions" which would prevent the repetition of these errors in other Communist parties.2 Undaunted by this sharp attack, the leadership of the Turkish party did not give way gracefully. Instead, "Faruk", speaking in the name of the Turkish organization, assured the Fifth Congress that Manuilsky was totally "incorrect" in his charges that the Turkish party showed a tendency to cooperate with the bourgeoisie in a positive sense, i.e., in building capitalism. In his defense, the Turkish representative argued that Communist collaboration with the Kemalists was merely in a negative sense to oppose reaction, the return of the capitulations, and imperialism. "Faruk" particularly singled out the need to support Atatiirk against the opposition Progressive Republican Party, which he correctly noted had support "even in the administration of the army." He went on to assure the gathering: "But as for co-operating in order to give power to the bourgeoisie, that we shall never do." In his words, "No one in the party believed that it was necessary to leave the national bourgeoisie free to crush the workers."3

' J>. §efik Hiisnii [Deymer], "Turkiyc ve Sosyalizm Cereyanlari," Aydinlik, no. 16, June 1923, pp. 410-14; and his "I^timai Islahat Meselesi," ibid, no. 20, Feb. 1924, pp.529-532. Communist International, Fifth Congress of the Communist International (London: Communist Party of Gt. Britain, n.d.), pp. 188-89, 193, 209-10. "Mr. Struve" was P. B. Struve, a Russian economist who believed that socialism could come about by evolution rather than revolution. See Tungay, p. 349. ^Faruk, "Rech' Tov. Faruka," in Communist International, Piatyi Vsemirnyi Kongress Kommunisticheskogo Internatsionala 17 iiunia-8 iiulia 1924 g. Stenograficheskii Otchet, Chast' 1 (Moscow, Gosudarstvennoe Izdatel'stvo, 1925), pp. 676-80. Hamit Bozarslan, §efik Hiisnii ve Sonrasi (Istanbul, Eylem Yayinlan, 1980), p. 102, says that "Faruk" was Ali Cevdet, who later used the alias "Fakhri." Mete Tun?ay, Turkiye'de Sol Akimlar, p.350, indicates that "Faruk" was Deymer. In the Comintern's English versions of the proceedings "Faruk" was rendered as "Fapluk."

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On this basis, the Turkish Communists concluded that the Kemalists could advance the nationalist revolution only in its initial stages. The nationality problem, for example, they believed was sure to derail the Kemalists sooner or later. Yet in a tack not completely consonant with the prescription in Suphi's program for full autonomy for the Kurds, the Turkish representative echoed Atatiirk's line in explaining that "Kurdish intellectuals and urban Kurds have no national and separatist claim" inasmuch as they enjoyed the same constitutional rights as did the Turks. On the other hand, the Turkish Communist delegate emphasized the injustice of discrimination against the Christian minorities by the Kemalists. Further, "Faruk" charged the Atatiirk regime with corrupting the Istanbul intelligentsia by conducting a Pan-Turkish policy of anti-Bolshevism. As a result, the Turkish Communist official identified the task of the party members to organize the proletariat to support the eventual struggle for national liberation in Turkey and elsewhere in the world. In justifying its position before the international Communist audience, the Turkish Communist Party speaker claimed that a revolutionary process modeled on that in Turkey since the Lausanne Treaty was possible for a number of other countries. In fact, he singled out China as a place where this phenomenon might be repeated in the near future. 1 This idea of Turkey as a model for national liberation struggles would later be taken over by the exCommunists who founded the Kadro movement in 1932. But by that time it would have been soundly repudiated by the Moscow-line Communists, who soon would insist that the route of riding on the back of the bourgeoisie to advance the cause of workers and peasants was no longer possible. The uncompromising stand of Deymer's faction dictated that there would be little immediate change in the party line to meet the Comintern's objections. Clearly the Turkish leaders believed that they had had the best of the exchange. In fact, neither Deymer's standing in the international Communist movement, where he was elevated to the newly formed International Control Commission of the Communist International, nor his dominance in the Turkish Communist Party seemed at all impaired by the controversy. Indeed, service on the International Control Commission meant that he was positioned to play a leading role in dealing with "complaints of individuals or organizations concerning disciplinary measures taken against them by the [various national] Sections" of the Communist Party. And

1 Piatyi Vsemirnyi Kongress, p. 676. See also Fatma Bursah (trans.), Ttirkiye Komiinist ve i$çi Hareketi (Istanbul: Aydmlik Yayinlan, 1979), p. 122.

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disciplinary action would be a prominent feature of Communist activity in coming years.1 If he no longer touted "state capitalism" in so many words, Deymer showed no inclination to abandon the essence of his position that Turkey must develop a strong national economy to resist the depredations of Western capitalists and imperialists. In a long article he specifically reiterated his approval of state monopolies as "the most practical and efficient of the solutions to elevate Turkey economically without falling under the influence and domination of imperialist, capitalist states." He openly repeated his belief that state-run industry and a state monopoly of foreign trade would "prevent the accumulation of large private fortunes" and "take the most sensitive parts of the economy from the middle class." While doubting that the Kemalists "would set up a monopoly system in the spirit desired," he appealed for "nationalization without compensation of all farms in the East, Thrace, and Izmir" and their distribution to landless or poor peasants. And he made an elaborate justification of the Turkish potential to amass national capital, but pointed to the danger that minority businessmen would be the sole beneficiaries unless the state intervened. His argumentation in general reflected latent fear that local capitalists would "willy-nilly have to come to terms with international capital" if they were not backed by the state.2 On the political front, Deymer continued to harbor some confidence that the Communists could work within the Kemalist system to advantage. Rather than oppose Atatiirk directly, Deymer again called for Turkey to unite with other Eastern countries to resist the West more effectively. Domestically, while lauding the Kemalists for moving against feudalism and for taking other steps to dismantle the old system, he renewed his calls for a constructive program of social reform to permit the formation of unions and to provide the right to strike. Like others in the Turkish party, he associated himself with the chief ideologist of Atatiirk's defunct "official" Communist Party by giving approval to corporatism, which he indicated "if applied broadly, may be superior to other forms of bourgeois populism."3 Among the changes that Deymer saw necessary to allow the Communists to prosper were fundamental alterations in the electoral system. He plugged strongly for direct elections in place of the two-stage indirect

'The Communist Party of Great Britain, The Communist International Between the Fifth & Sixth World Congresses -1924-8 (London: Dorrit Press, 1928), p. 49. 2 S e e his "Devlet Inhisanna Ni^iii Taraftariz?," Aydmlik, no. 25, Sept. 1924, pp. 642-44; and his "Tiirkiye'de Iktisadi Mesele-1," ibid, no. 30, Feb. 1925, pp. 811-13. 3 Dr. §efik Hiisnil [Deymer], "Harp Umumiyenin Dogurdugu l§timai Haraketler," Aydinlik, no. 23, July 1924, pp. 594-96; "Menfi Halksiliktan Miispet Halk§ihga," ibid, no. 24, Aug. 1924, pp. 618-19.

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procedures that Atatiirk used to assure the political control of the Republican Peoples party. Deymer's confidence that direct elections would serve Communist interests reflects his profound exaggeration of the strength of the left in Turkey. It also put him solidly in the camp of supporting the parliamentary process, even though he pointed out that the newly formed Progressive Republican Party was merely the alter ego of the bourgeois Kemalists, who he constantly warned were on the verge of selling out to the compradore capitalists. Indeed, he increasingly voiced the conclusion that "the distance the Peoples Party can go is very short," but he called Turkish peasants and workers to "defend the Republican Administration against attack" as the best immediate recourse. 1 The consistency of the line the Turkish Communists defended at the Fifth Congress of the Comintern was also shown in their stand on the Kurdish issue. Deymer's preference for the Kemalists over the Kurdish rebels continued in Communist publications inside of Turkey. His strong support for the government against the Kurdish insurgents was especially sharply put in Orak Qekig, the Bolshevik-style journal the party inaugurated in January 1925 as a publication that was supposed to be aimed more at arousing the masses than could the more theoretical Aydinlik. After Sheykh Sait and his followers rose in revolt at the start of 1925, demanding the return of the Ottoman Caliph, Orak Cekig called the uprising the "reactionary puppet" of England. To Deymer and his colleagues, Marxists theory clearly held that Atatiirk's bourgeois regime represented a far more advanced state of social development than the feudalist order they discerned in traditionalist Kurdish society. And they insisted that the Kemalists must be supported to the hilt against the Kurds, whose revolt Orak Qekig believed consequently had nothing in common with a true national liberation movement. Indeed, the strong belief— though quite misplaced—that British imperialists were behind the Kurdish insurgents ironically influenced Deymer's attitude just as it did Atatiirk's. 2 The ferment within the Turkish Communist Party engendered by the Comintern criticism and by factional disputes over the line to take toward the Kemalist movement as well as over the challenges of the new Turkish Republic led Deymer to convoke the so-called "Third Congress" of the Turkish Communist Party in February 1925 in Istanbul. The Comintern, which had long been concerned over the orthodoxy of the Turkish party, apparently sent

içefik Hiisnu [Deymer], "Memleketimizde Siyasi Firkalarla Simflar Arasmda Munasebet," Aydinlik, no. 28, Dec. 1924, pp. 721-23; "Turk Koylusiimin Kurtulusu," ibid, no. 29 Jan Î 1925, pp. 776-77. 2 Tunçay, pp. 359-67, gives a brief description of the contents of Orak Çekiç, of which seven issues appeared between Jan. 21 and Mar. 5, 1925. Sheikh Sait was called a "bandit" by the Turkish Communists, who added that "Black reaction is our enemy as well as that of the bourgeoisie. We must above all defeat this enemy."

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P. Kitaigorodskii, an expert on Turkey, to monitor the proceedings and to encourage party unity.1 Present evidence is still inadequate to determine exactly what transpired at this gathering. Yet there is no doubt that it was marked by disunity among the 21 delegates who are said to have assembled in Deymer's house for the occasion. One focus of conflict was evidently his high-handedness and determination to impose his dominance over the organization. A credible account from a later adherent to the Communist movement indicates that Deymer ran into trouble over his desire to pack the Congress with intellectuals who were presumably personally loyal to him. This demand was strongly opposed by the clique of young party members who had just returned from receiving education at the Communist University of the Toilers of the East in Moscow and by the group of those who had attended the First Congress of the Turkish Communist Party at Baku. The latter formed the majority. Thus in the vote, Deymer's request was rejected. Yet at the end of the Congress, Deymer was elected Secretary of the Central Committee, though his rival Vedat Nedim Tor was selected Secretary of the seven-man Executive Committee. That compromise was a sure recipe for further disunity.2 Comintern sources reported that dispute also revolved around the content of the new program whose initial draft was elaborated at this time. No full text of this version of the program has been published. But what is known from the brief report of the Comintern Executive the following year indicates that the programmatic themes approved by the delegates at the 1925 Congress took a leaf out of the party program worked out in Baku five years earlier in avoiding any clear prescription for relations with the Ankara regime. The program naturally did stress opposition to imperialism and to the forces of reaction within Turkey. The participants demanded greater freedom of action for the Communist Party and instructed members to concentrate especially on infiltrating government approved labor organizations in order to recruit workers as the base of the party. The Turkish Communists also set themselves in opposition to Trotskyism and, in keeping with the shift of focus toward industrial workers, approved the emphasis on publications directed at a labor audience.3

' Fatma Bursah (trans.), Turkiye Komunist ve Hareketi (Istanbul: Aydmlik Yaymlan, 1979), pp. 155-58, gives the report of the Comintern Executive for 1925-1926, in which the results of this Congress are described. 2 ibrahim Top§uoglu, Neden ¡ki Soysalist Partisi - 1946: T.K.P. Kurulugu ve Mucadelesinin Tarihi: 1914-1960, vol. 1 (Istanbul: Eser Matbaasi, 1976), pp. 96-104, reports Mustafa Borkiice's version of these events. Borkiice was a participant in this "Congress." See also Tungay, pp. 362-63. 3 See also Moscow, Institut Marks-Engel'sa-Lenina pri TsK VKP (b), Programmnye Dokumenty Kommunisticheskikh Partii Vostoka (Moscow, 1934), pp. 147-48.

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The Communist Party and the Women's Movement Women did not take a leading part in the revolutions in either Turkey or the Soviet Union. But the Turkish Communists did hope to harness feminist frustrations to serve their cause. Thus it was that Soviet experts on the women's movement sought to work with the local Communists to exploit rising interest in Turkey in the emancipation of women to attract the downtrodden. From available evidence, it is not possible to determine how much effective support Turkish Communists realistically expected to gain from appealing to Turkish women. But at the beginning at least, they were encouraged to believe that they had tapped a potentially rich vein by the relatively emancipated view of such important figures at Atatiirk's wife, Latife. 1 Even after she was divorced in August 1925, closing off possibilities of a feminist ally at the top of the Kemalist regime, the Turkish Communists saw Atatiirk's growing proclivities to favor women's rights as reflective of ferment within society. It was, moreover, notable that a few active feminists were recruited into the Communist movement in Turkey in the Ataturk years. And indeed, women played a far more prominent role in leftist parties in Turkey over the years than they have until recent decades in the main line political formations. In the early years of the Turkish Republic, Soviet experts on the women's question identified the rapid growth of women workers in Turkey as providing fertile ground for recruits for the nascent Communist movement. Contrasting the complete absence of female factory workers before 1908 with the existence of some 10,000 such workers by the early 1920s, Communist observers pointed hopefully to the "indirect" role in political and class struggle they felt that women were beginning to play. Articles on women's issues figured prominently in the literature of the Turkish Communist Party. 2 Moreover, the Communist assault on feudalism and its relics they believed entailed ineluctably attack on the baleful influence of Islamic family law.

' s . I. Aralov, Vospominaniia Sovetskogo Diplomata, 1922-1923 (Moscow: Izdatel'skvo Institute Mezhdunarodnykh Otnoshenii, 1960, pp. 70-72, 205-206. ^Starting with its second issue on August 1, 1921, Aydinlik began its publicity on women in the Communist movement with a notice and a picture of Madelene Marx [Paz] and a lengthy article entitled "l§timayi inkilap ve Kadinlarimiz." In its fourth issue on October 1, 1921, Melahat Nuri featured "Kadinlarimiz." Aydinhk's issues number 22 and 23 (July and August 1924) among others, carried articles by Fevziye on the social situation of Muslim women in Russia, "Rusyadaki Musulman Kadinlarin I§timai Vaziyetlerine Ismali bir nazar" By the end of the 1929s, S. Bedri would find that there were 10,000 women working only in the tobacco industry and 15,000 in textiles and other industry, but by that time would have lost faith that the Kcmalists were substantially improving the lot of women. See, Bursah, Tiirkiye Komunist ve /yp Hareketi, pp. 218-220.

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Thus, although the process of attracting women to the ranks of the Turkish Communist Party was a slow one, the Communists took heart from the growing educational possibilities for women in Turkey and the increasing incidence of participation in political meetings and demonstrations by emerging Turkish feminists. Indeed, looking at the activity of Atatiirk's cousin Fikriye and later of his sister Makbule in fostering feminist support for the ruling Peoples Party in 1923, Soviet observers exaggerated the amount of political ferment engaged in by women in the early days of the Turkish Republic. 1 They appeared to regard the participation of four women tobacco workers and one "bourgeois" woman at the Izmir Economic Congress in 1923, for example, as a significant omen that female discontent could be mobilized for political purposes. A measure of the unrealistic appreciation by the Communist world in regard to the extent of feminist pressure in Turkey is apparent in the exchange of correspondence between Atatiirk's wife Latife and the wife of Soviet Vice President Kamenev in the spring of 1924.2 The Soviet Ambassador to Ankara initiated this exchange of letters by a call on Latife at which conversation turned toward the status of women and educational matters. It is not clear from available evidence at whose initiative these subjects were raised. But from the tenor of the vague request that the Ambassador relayed to Moscow for information on the development of Soviet art and music, as well as for enlightenment on "the women's movement," it seems unlikely that on the Turkish side the request for information was more than diplomatic nicety. In her reply on May 16, 1924, however, Madame Kameneva took full advantage of the opening to send extensive propaganda on the position of women in the Soviet Union—a subject that would be dealt with in Aydinlik in July and August based on her materials. This material stressed that the question of women had been resolved in Soviet Russia by constructing "public and social life" on the "principle of absolute equality of women and men in all rights and obligations."3

1 Aralov, pp. 70-71, 100. Aralov reported, p. 73, that Fatma Qavus, a commander of a "partisan unit" came to express her sympathy for the Soviet state. 2q. Kameneva, "Ob'edinennoe Riuro Informatsii," Novyi Vostok, no. 7, 1925, p. 298 describes "the exchange between me and the wife of Kemal Pasha, published in this issue of Novyi Vostok." For the text of Latife's reply to "Comrade Kameneva," see Appendix 3. 3 Fevziye, "Rusyadaki Musulman Kadinlarimn I^imai Vaziyetlerine Icmali bir Nazar," Aydinlik, no. 23, July 1924, pp. 604-605. See also the speech of Fevziye at the Eastern Muslim Women's Congress of the Communist International which among other things indicated that by 1924 the Turkish Communist Party had ten women members. Bursali, Turkiye Komiinist ve i§gi Hareketi, pp. 130-131.

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The letter from Latife in response must have fed Soviet hopes that the Turkish revolution would become a thorough-going bourgeois movement, uprooting the feudalist regime of the past. Latife made no secret of her aspirations and expectations for full political as well as social emancipation of women, thus explicitly foreshadowing the impressive program that Atatiirk's movement would offer this formerly disadvantaged half of the population. After thanking Madame Kameneva for the information on Soviet life and after noting the Soviet Ambassador's role in facilitating this exchange, Latife made clear that the Kemalist revolution took no backseat to anyone in its dedication of the women's movement. "Our revolution is not only political but also social, putting as its first task to raise up the cultural level of women for the development of their emancipation." Latife followed this assertion with the claim that the results achieved by Turkish women in the successful conclusion of the Struggle for Independence were proof positive that the female portion of the population stood in the forefront of progress. She noted that educated women had already broken into such formerly exclusively male domains as the free professions. Reflecting the ideal rather than the reality, Latife claimed that "in marriage, [women] already are no longer the slave of their husband, but have become his real companion, equal with him in rights and duties." And Latife ended her letter with the expression of hope that in the "most immediate future" Turkish women would participate as well in the political life of the country and "will be happy to go on the path of their Russian sisters to whom they feel the deepest respect." This exchange appeared to have marked the high-water point in Communist hopes that a strong women's movement might come about in Turkey to support Communist organizations. By 1930, the Comintern was complaining that while "Turkey had formerly a women's organization which pretended to be national-revolutionary and to fight for the liberation of Turkey from the imperialists," once the Kemalists moved to consolidate their revolution, "this women's league has betaken itself to a purely philanthropic domain." 1

Banning the Communist Party Even though Ankara conservatives were upset at the Turkish Communist Party's attitude toward women, it was not the party's attention to women that caused trouble. Rather it was the party's growing emphasis on agitation among the workers that sealed the course of confrontation with the ^Hedwig Merk, 'The Military Women's Organization of the Bourgeoisie," International Press Correspondence, vol. 10, no. 10, Feb. 25, 1930, p. 179.

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Kemalists. In March 1925, the Ankara regime imposed the Law for the Maintenance of Order to deal with the Kurdish revolt and other currents of political opposition. In the process of moving against domestic critics and rivals of all complexions, the government closed the Communist journals and prohibited the party's propaganda activity. Communists were not arrested, however, until Deymer, allegedly against the wishes of a number of other prominent members of his party, insisted on issuing May Day proclamations for distribution among the workers.1 This challenge to the Ankara authorities evoked a speedy response. Many party stalwarts were rounded up in May 1925; Deymer himself and a handful of others fled abroad to escape incarceration; only a few major figures, who had for the most part maintained a shadowy connection with Aydinlik and the public activities of the Turkish Communist Party, were left untouched.

1 Top9uoglu, pp. 108-109. A. Cerrahoglu [Kerim Sadi], Turkiye'de Sosyalizmin Tarihine Katki (Istanbul: May Yaymlan, 1975), pp. 480-83, claims that Deymer himself wrote the offending propaganda against the advice of others.

CHAPTER III: Adapting to Underground Life

The Kemalist crackdown marked a turning point for the Communist movement in Turkey. In future, the party would have to operate as an illegal organization subject to government suppression. As a result, it suffered a dramatic loss of cohesiveness and direction. It was divided between an external leadership headed by §efik Hiisnii Deymer and under the thumb of Moscow on the one hand, and underground factions always on the defensive within Turkey on the other. This enforced division provided a climate in which control of freewheeling personalities and factions was next to impossible. Moreover, the fact that Deymer was able to flee abroad in 1925, avoiding the rigors of jail, while the rank and file remained behind, undoubtedly added to the strains within the party. It also contributed to differences in interpretation of Turkish reality between the Communist leadership abroad and those attempting to work inside Turkey The start of underground activity was difficult for those party members who had managed to avoid identification and capture by the authorities. Vedat Nedim Tor, the ranking Communist official left on the scene, cautiously undertook to revive party work. Like §efik Hiisnii Deymer, Tor sprang from a prominent and privileged family. His grandfather had been a pasha in the Ottoman service. In 1923 Atatiirk selected Tor's uncle to serve as a deputy in the Turkish Grand National Assembly, an assignment that lasted several decades. 1 Tor himself had attended Galatasaray Lycee before receiving an extensive education in Germany, graduating from the University of Berlin in 1922. His interest in developing Turkey into economically self-sufficient state led him to Communism even before his return to his homeland in 1923. His interpretation, however, was tinged with nationalism and was grounded in concern to combat economic imperialism. With his active political connections, he evidently had hope of immunity from prosecution by Ankara. Tor's first task after the 1925 arrests was to overcome the "panic" felt at the lower levels of the party and to reorganize what the Comintern confessed were "more or less demolished cadres." Thus, working under the aegis of the Arcos Trading Company, which was Moscow's agency responsible for arranging business deals with the Soviet Union and coincidentally for making

' Sec the obituary of Nedim Servet Tor, Cumhuriyet, Apr. 15, 1947; also Kazim Oztiirk, Turk Portamento Tarihi: TBMM - II. Donem 1923-1927, vol. 3 (Ankara: TBMM Basimevi Mudurliigu, 1995), pp. 422-423, biography of Edip Servet (Tor).

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funds available to the Communist organization, he sent representatives to the provinces to restore contact and develop cells. Under the constant threat of discovery by the Ankara government, Tor's group kept a low profile and did not adopt a clear line toward the Kemalist regime. These Communists eschewed Deymer's earlier tactics of attempting to publish tracts or to encourage worker protests. They were concerned not to call attention to the continuing existence of the organization. In Comintern publications, this policy was condemned for showing "great apathy" in the economic struggle and soon earned the appellation of "Menshevik liquidatory deviations."1 Later, looking back in 1930, the Comintern explained that because the party was weakened by arrests, "some elements which were petty bourgeois in origin" were able to secure places in the party leadership.2 Yet even the party line expressed by the external leaders was still quite ambivalent in its treatment of the Kemalist revolution. On the one hand, in the fall of 1925 the Comintern Executive deplored the persecution of the Turkish Communist Party. Yet it did so in generally measured tones. §efik Hiisnii Deymer, while admitting his Communist Party affiliation and naming himself "our leading theoretician," did call his 15-year prison term in absentia a "monstrous sentence, one which can never be erased from the history of Kemalism." But he merely contented himself with appealing to the working class of all countries including Turkey to work to abolish the mean-spirited "class legislation" under which he was sentenced. And at the end of 1925 the Comintern acknowledged that "it would be a serious mistake to set one's tactics in relation to the present regime in Turkey on the basis of one of its characteristics—its persecution of the Communists." It added the injunction that "Turkish comrades must in future more persistently and without hesitation support all steps of the Kemalist government directed at strengthening of the revolutionary struggle and at the establishment of close friendly relations with the USSR." Yet with an eye to the far distant future, the Turkish Communist Party was directed to "carry on serious work among the masses of the urban proletariat and peasantry to become a political party of the masses capable of standing on its own." Clearly a key consideration behind these injunctions was determination to see that Turkey maintained friendly ties with the Soviet Union. There was a growing belief in the Comintern that "contradictions between Turkey and British imperialism are getting more intense and ineluctably put Turkey on the path to develop friendly relations

' B. Ferdi [pseudonym of Deymer], "Kommunisticheskoe Dvizhenie v Turtsii," Kommunisticheskii Internatsional (henceforth AT), Oct. 22, 1926, no. 6 (64), p. 46, charged Central Committee members with being "inexperienced" and passive, claiming that party communications could have been maintained "if the party had succeeded in time in creating an illegal organ." See also, Communist Party of Great Britain, The Communist International Between the Fifth & Sixth Congresses, 1924-8 (London: Doritt Press, 1928), p. 404. 2 l§(inin Sesi, no. 289, Aug. 26, 1985, p. 15, carried an appeal from Inkilap Yolu, no. 1, JulyAug. 1930, complaining about the social origins of the Tor group.

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with the USSR." 1 In Moscow's eyes that overweighed concern over the fate of the Communists, whose day would come, if ever, well into the future. This more or less understanding interpretation of the Kemalists continued to be characteristic of Deymer's views even after the Kemalists stepped up their campaign against Turkish Communists. Indeed, after sharply condemning Atatiirk for unleashing "White Terror" against Communists, Deymer in February 1926 voiced the judgment that "to-day Kemal's adherents seem to have got rid completely of their illusions, as regards the possibility of enjoying co-operation with international capitalism and at the same time maintaining national independence." The émigré leadership took great heart from the signing of a Treaty of Friendship and Neutrality between Turkey and the USSR in December 1925. Moreover, judging that Atatiirk had burned his bridges in confronting the United Kingdom on the question of possession of Mosul province, Deymer saw the opportunity to extract concessions from the Ankara regime, which he regarded as needing to enlist the masses in military action to resist the British.2 The five demands that Deymer put forth in this connection in February 1926 gave a contemporary clue to the unrealistic hopes that the external Communists still had for the evolution of relations with the Kemalists. Deymer appealed to Ankara: • •

• • •

First, to form a "close alliance" with neighboring oppressed peoples; Second, to enact a law to give landless peasants lands expropriated from the "feudal Beys and the large landed proprietors in the Eastern provinces of Turkey, including Mosul;" Third, to conclude "a final alliance with the Soviet Union;" Fourth, to grant workers "freedom to organize unions and publish newspapers;" and Fifth, to give the Kurds the right "to determine their own form of government."3

The overly-optimistic idea that at this time the Ankara authorities might be susceptible to moving in ways beneficial to the Communists was echoed by other Comintern writers. Assessing a year of Îsmet Inônii's rule as Prime Minister in April 1926, K. Just [German spelling for the Turkish

B. Ferdi, "Persecution of Communists in New Turkey," International Press Correspondence, vol. 5, no. 70, 17 Sept. 1925, pp. 1038-1039; "Voprosy revoliutsionnogo dvizheniia na Vostoke na predstoiashchem rasshirennom plenume IKKI," Kl, no. 12 (49), Dec. 1925, pp. 25-26. 2 B. Ferdi, 'The Anglo-Turkish Conflict," Inprecor, vol. 6, no. 15, Feb. 25, 1926, p. 215. Ibid. p. 216.

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"list"?] commended the Kemalist "revolution" for having "deeply penetrated into the masses" and for having "fiercely attacked the interests of the feudal land owners, the clericals, the bourgeoisie of the harbour towns and the remaining lackeys of the Sultanate." He praised the Kemalists for "obvious efforts to continue the revolution both on the economic and political field" by crushing the clerical Kurdish insurrection and by "annihilating the feudaltheoretic order in Kurdistan." Indeed, Just expressed the belief that the tempo of Kemalism would not slow down and concluded that the "reforms are still being favourably accepted by the great majority of the population—especially by the peasantry."1 Deymer followed this up in April 1926 with a lengthy analysis of Atatiirk's economic policy focusing on the creation of a number of new domestic credit facilities, particularly the t§ Bankasi (Business Bank) and the expansion of the Ziraat Bankasi (Agricultural Bank) functions. Deymer judged the emphasis on these institutions to be an "extreme policy" to defend Turkey's industry and trade in order to "speed the development of a native capitalist bourgeoisie" and to create a counterweight against "cosmopolitan elements." While the Communist leader saw this as a "progressive" step in "distancing the country economically from the influence of foreign capital," he objected that workers and peasants would have to pay the cost of these policies. Hence he called the "working masses" to demand with all their force alleviation of the burden of indirect taxes, i.e. customs tariffs. 2 It was not long, however, before this Communist optimism about the prospects for benefits from the Kemalist movement began to fade. Turkey soon moved to compose its differences with the United Kingdom and to abandon its claim to Mosul. As a result, in an atmosphere of growing concern about the foreign policy of the Turkish state, Deymer in May 1926 called Tor to a "Congress" in Vienna to reinspect the party line, define tactics, and resolve nagging questions about the chain of command of the leadership.3

The Vienna Congress Although scanty, the more or less contemporary information available on the 1926 Vienna meeting confirms later reports that charges and countercharges roiled the proceedings as Tor and Deymer each tried to justify ^K. Just, "A Year of the Cabinet of Ismet Pasha," Inprecor, vol. 6, no. 27, Apr. 8, 1926, pp. 417-18. 2 §eflk Hiisnu Komintern Organlarindaki Yazt ve Konu§malar (Istanbul: Aydmlik Yayinlari, 1977), pp. 34-41. ^Julide Ergiider (ed.), 1927 Komunist Tevkifati: Istanbul Agir Ceza Mahkemesindeki Duriqma (Istanbul: Birikim Yayinlari, 1978), p. 73.

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his own approach. Deymer's supporters soon afterwards openly charged Tor with being content to give workers merely "a Marxian training" rather than following the Stalinist line of "rallying the workers to a political struggle." The gathering was also enlivened by a group condemned by Comintern sources for wanting "a determined struggle against the Kemalist government which it characterized as 'the representative of the reactionary bourgeoisie.'" But the main body agreed with Deymer on a middle course. To the majority, this policy was justified because the party was not sufficiently experienced in working with the masses to conduct all-out opposition to Ankara and because the peasants "were not even aware of the existence of the party."1 In the end, the Congress papered over these differences. The party delegates apparently agreed that an external bureau (whose seat was supposed to be in Moscow, but which was actually located in Berlin until the advent of the Nazis to power) would have the authority to see that the organization remained true to the Comintern and would assure resolution of internal conflicts. Deymer's overall supremacy was confirmed as party Secretary General on the one hand, but Tor's responsibility to manage activity in Turkey as secretary of the executive committee was also reaffirmed on the other. At the same time, in an effort to increase the responsiveness of party members within Turkey to the direction of the Comintern, (Laz) Ismail Bilen, Hiisamettin Ozdogu, and several other exiles were sent back to work with Tor. The Congress apparently took a decision in principle that Deymer himself should return to Turkey when he judged the time ripe.2 The main accomplishment of the Congress was to amplify and adjust the 1925 party theses to fit the new requirements of underground activity. According to Comintern accounts published soon afterwards, the first article of the 1926 version of the party program proclaimed: The Turkish Communist Party is the dedicated enemy of imperialism and of all the forces of reaction (feudals, clerics, landowners, bourgeoisie, former aristocracy, former counterrevolutionary officers, etc.) who are the social base of [the movement for] restoration of the monarchy.... As long as Kemalism continues to fight against foreign imperialism and feudal reaction, the Turkish Communist Party will support it and push it ^Communist Party of Great Britain, p. 404; Bursali, p. 158. Erguder, p. 14, quotes Vak.it, Nov. 20, 1927, on the basis of the interrogation of those arrested in 1927: "The Vienna Congress did not consider the present situation suitable to carry out armed work. The Congress saw necessary instead to set up a worker party, a worker professional organization, worker cooperatives, and 'revolutionary stragglers aid' societies; and it considered an effort now to take over the government impossible, useless, and harmful." 2

Top5uoglu, pp. 107-140. While this account rests on what Topguoglu heard from such early prominent Communists as Sari Mustafa Borkliice, and thus must be used with caution, it is consistent with what other versions say about the main organizational decisions of this meeting.

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further. But the Turkish Communist Party will fight against all efforts of the Kemalist party at compromise with imperialism and against all of its efforts to compromise with reaction which threatens to paralyze entirely the forces struggling against the imperialists.1 For the rest, the party advanced demands for improved working conditions in an effort to woo young workers, who were specifically cited by Deymer as needed to form the "social base" of the organization. While the program spoke of the ultimate aim to establish a revolutionary dictatorship of the workers and peasants under the leadership of the Communist Party, for the present the party strongly supported the Kemalist regime, which Deymer openly called a "progressive factor," that he saw as clearing the way for proletarian revolution. The program demanded freedom of speech, press, assembly, and to organize unions. At the same time, it appealed to the Kemalists to end the policy of "repression" of the Kurds and other national minorities.2 The Vienna Conference was celebrated in the Comintern with continued optimism that the Kemalist revolution would defend Turkey's "economic independence." In this spirit, the Soviet author S. Iranski praised the exposure of the plot to assassinate Atatiirk in June 1926 as frustrating "a big coup d'état" by a "great counter-revolutionary organization." He presented the Comintern's judgment that "the failure of the conspiracy proves...that no efforts of the internal counter-revolution can succeed." He added the assurance that there could be no going back in Turkey, even if such efforts were "supported by foreign interests." Furthermore, he indicated approval of the recent "introduction of monopolies," despite the fact that he recognized that moving in this direction raised prices of food considerably. Yet the Kemalist monopolies were to be praised in his view because they were essential in maintaining Turkey's independence.3 By September 1926, however, enthusiasm for Kemalism was clearly diminishing. Deymer now followed up by analyzing the waning of revolutionary fervor in Turkish nationalism. At this time he still could repeat his judgment that "the national revolutionary movement in Turkey is doubtless a progressive factor." And he added that "one must agree that this policy [of enriching the bourgeoisie] gives positive results in building a '"'Kommunistichcskiy Zagovor' v Turtsii," KI, Dec. 30, 1927, pp. 30-33. The entire text of the 1926 version of the party program was apparently never published. 2 Ibid; B. Ferdi [§efik Hiisnii Deymer], "Polozhenie v Turtsii," KI, Sept. 1926, no. 9 (58), p. 130; B. Ferdi, "Polozhenie rabochego klassa i kommunisticheskoe dvizhenie v Turtsii," KI, Nov. 12, 1926, no. 9 (67), p. 4. 3 S. Iranski, "An Attempt at a Counter-Revoluotinary Coup d'État in Turkey," International Press Correspondence, no. 51, July 8, 1926, pp. 840-841.

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national economy." But he saw the continuing pressure of the "right wing" of the Kemalist Peoples Party as increasing its challenge to Atatiirk and feeding a sharpening of class conflict. Workers, he insisted, must give support to the progressive wing against the reactionaries. These retrograde forces, he feared, would capitulate to imperialism if they should become in the ascendant. 1

Renewed

Agitation

Yet neither the Vienna party gathering nor the subsequent release of the jailed party members in October 1928 in a general amnesty led to the upsurge of activity that Deymer and the Comintern desired. While the émigré Communist leaders had originally accepted Tor's design to infiltrate Communists into the Republican Peoples Party, supposedly to lead that body to support labor causes, the results of this policy did not at all satisfy the external leadership. The policy was soon condemned as collaboration with the Kemalists. 2 Symptomatic of Tor's unwillingness to challenge the Ankara regime was the fact that under his guidance the party remained aloof from the strike movement in Istanbul and izmir that marked labor's continuing efforts to organize. Tor refused to call for walkouts by the streetcar workers; and the Communists were not involved in the agitation of the railroad workers in western Turkey. The Comintern critics openly berated Tor's faction for failure to participate in the protests by tobacco workers and particularly in the violent demonstrations of the stevedores of Istanbul in January 1927 against new regulations by the Istanbul port authority. Indeed, the Comintern ridiculed the justification of Tor's group that these stevedores represented "proletarianized petty-Bourgeoisie" and that by supporting the Kemalist authorities against the strikers the proletarianization of the port workers would be accelerated. In this situation, as a mark of its disfavor, the external leadership was said to have suspended the quarterly payments of $1,000 that had been sent through the Soviet diplomatic mission to the Turkish Communist Party. 3 In light of this disappointing performance, Deymer finally decided to return to Turkey in August 1927. His sentence in absentia to 15 years at hard labor handed down in 1925 had been commuted to a shorter term as a result of the general amnesty in 1926, but he still faced arrest, hence he came in disguise. Deymer had been undoubtedly frustrated by the difficulties of

ilbid. pp. 49-59. lbid. pp. 49-59. ^Communist Party of Great Britain, p. 404; Aclan Sayilgan, Turkiye'de Sol Hareketler (18711972) (Istanbul: Hareket Yaymlan, 2d ed„ 1972), pp. 191, 197.

2

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directing activity from abroad. A letter which he sent to party colleagues in 1927 from Moscow makes clear his eagerness for more intensive cell formation work than those on the spot considered feasible. 1 And he evinced deep suspicion of the loyalty of many of the former students of the Communist University of the Toilers of the East who were in the Tor clique. This Communist institution had been run by associates of the rather opportunistic Grigori Zinoviev, who had switched sides often in the factional conflict inside the Soviet Communist Party before being stripped of his offices by Stalin in 1926. Those who had studied at this Communist institution, whose creation had been mandated by the 1920 Baku Congress of the Peoples of the East, thus became suspect in the eyes of Stalinists who henceforth directed the international Communist movement.2 With Deymer's arrival in Istanbul, the internal conflict reached its breaking point. He had moved steadily during 1926 toward the conclusion that "the bourgeois character of the Peoples Party is progressively crystallizing." In concrete terms, he judged that Atatiirk might be "very exacting and ambitious in regard to political independence, but...not insistent enough where economic problems were at stake." Moreover, Deymer reached the conviction that at best "as far as Turkey's foreign affairs are concerned, the Kemalists for a long time to come will be obliged to conduct a see-saw policy between East and West." Indeed, by mid-1927, the Comintern was complaining of Ankara's "relentless oppression of the working class" and was urging Turkish workers to undertake "an indefatigable struggle against the exploiting classes." The Communists declared that "repressive measures of the Kemalist authorities add only to [the workers'] hatred for the bourgeoisie be it Kemalist or Unionist [ i.e., supporters of the Ottoman Committee of Union and Progress party]."3 This line was increasingly at odds with the views of Tor and his principal collaborator, §evket Siireyya Aydemir. The latter, a young man who had moved to Communism from a strong commitment to an all-embracing Turkish nationalism bordering on Pan-Turanism, had gone to Azerbaijan in 1920. Proceeding to Moscow in 1921 to study at the Communist University of the Toilers of the East, Aydemir was one of the few Turks to join the Russian Communist Party. When he returned to Turkey in 1923, he considered himself a confirmed Leninist, interested in doctrine, but always 1 For this letter, see Ilhan Darendelioglu, Turkiye'de Komunist Hareketier (Istanbul: Tan Matbaasi, 2d ed., 1962), pp. 55-56; Fethi Tevetoglu, Turkiye'de Sosyalist ve Komunist Faaliyetler (1910-1960) (Ankara: Ayyildiz Matbaasi, 1967), pp. 401-403; see also Erguder, pp. 39-40. 2 A member of the Politburo, Zinoviev had been Chairman of the Executive Committee of the Comintern from 1919 to 1926. After shifting sides often in the factional battles in the Kremlin, he finally allied himself with Trotsky and that led to his dismissal from the Chairmanship. •^Darendelioglu, pp.55-56; "Kemalism on the Road to Capitalist Development," The Communist International, M y 30,1927, pp. 223-27; Inprecor, vol. 6, no. 88, Dec. 20,1926, p. 1546.

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with a continuing nationalist slant. 1 Arrested in the 1925 roundup, he was amnestied in October 1926. The rigors of jail in Anatolia apparently shook his faith in Moscow's line. Yet at Tor's request, Aydemir evidently accepted a position on the party's Central Committee with responsibility for publications. Just how active he was in the work of the underground party cannot be told from the evidence available. But his later disclaimer implying that he had not continued relations with Tor's organization does not seem credible.2 Aydemir, who saw himself as a major ideologist (perhaps a sort of "Turkish Lenin"), was intrigued by the societal reforms being carried out by the Republican Peoples Party. He chafed under the directions from Turkish Communist Party Secretary General Deymer which seemed a recipe for collision with the Kemalists. As an intellectual dedicated to the manipulation of ideas, he was not disposed to sympathize with the Comintern's emphasis on focusing the program of agitation on arousing workers. And with his highly developed sense of ambition, he almost certainly felt an emerging rivalry with Deymer for leadership. These differences in approach could hardly be concealed, particularly once party Secretary General Deymer was back on the ground. But instead of attempting to reconcile the dissidents or to woo their allegiance, Deymer accepted the risk of splitting the party by strongly condemning Tor's administration and then by forming a separate executive committee of loyalists. Among his new leadership cadre, Deymer enlisted (Laz) Ismail Bilen, who many years later was to head the Moscow-oriented party. Bilen was dispatched to Izmir to organize a provincial branch. Hiisamettin Ozdogu, who had also recently returned from Russia, assumed a prominent position in the new Central Committee. Moreover, Deymer sought a restoration of funding for his activities from the Balkan Secretariat of the Comintern, which was charged with primary responsibility for managing the Turkish party. He promised a two- or three-fold increase in agitation once the money for a printing press was received. 3 1 Aydemir, in fact, took some pride in telling the author in an interview on Dec. 16, 1969, that he qualified as an "old Bolshevik," because his membership number in the Russian Communist Party was under 500,000. §evket Stireyya Aydemir, Suyu Arayan Adam (Istanbul: Remzi Kitabevi, 1967), pp. 436-37, claims that after being released from jail in 1926, "some of my old friends were not of the same idea and now the time had come for each to chose his own path." And he praised the judge for acquitting him in 1927. Aclan Sayilgan, Solun 94 Yih (1871-1965) (Istanbul: Mars Matbaasi, n.d.), p. 187. o Ergiider, passim, contains the most authoritative account of the events that led up to the 1927 arrests; see especially p. 41. Top§uoglu, pp. 113-120. Tevetoglu, pp. 402-403, presents lengthy quotes from Deymer's report to the Balkan Secretariat in October 1927. This report was intercepted by the police. For the composition of the new executive ommittee see Bilal §en, Cumhuriyet Ilk Yillannda TKP ve Komintern ili§kileri: Belgelerle bilinmeyenlerin oyktisu... (Istanbul: Kiiyerel Yayinlari, 1998), p. 98.

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Tor and Aydemir were not officially informed of the existence of this rival executive body. But operations on this scale could not be hidden for long from others in the organization. Discovery of Deymer's parallel administration led Tor to break with the Turkish Communist Party and then to denounce the Deymer wing to the Ankara authorities. 1 The surge of activity that followed party Secretary General Deymer's arrival and the information supplied by Tor combined to trigger a wave of arrests in Adana, Izmir, Ankara and Istanbul in November 1927. Deymer had circulated a lengthy hectograph brochure entitled Bol§evik, which the Kemalists considered quite provocative. The Communists had also launched a campaign of wall slogans and handbills calling workers in particular to strike in order to oppose the government's drive to collect deductions from salaries for the benefit of the nascent airplane industry. Despite his false identity, the police had no trouble apprehending Deymer on the basis of Tor's information. Other members of the rival executive committee were also rounded up. Yet while only a few prominent party activists, such as Nazim Hikmet and Hasan Ali Ediz, escaped the dragnet by being outside the country, the blow to the party was merely a glancing one. The accused received exceedingly light sentences: for the most, the time already served during the trial; for Deymer and other ringleaders, a maximum of two years. Tor's sentence was reduced for "extenuating circumstances" in view of his cooperation with the authorities. 2 Aydemir was acquitted outright, despite his past membership in Tor's Central Committee. He had apparently broken definitively with the Turkish Communist Party when asked to put up posters on Dolma Bah§e palace in June 1927, protesting Atatiirk's first visit to Istanbul after the revolution. At the trial, Aydemir testified frankly: "I accept Marxism. I am a fervent partisan of it, for it is a necessity." He then continued in a vein that foreshadowed in the most basic of terms his later stand in the Kadro movement: The liberation movement of Turkey which won its independence will serve as an example for [Asiatic nations]. This movement seems to me in effect sublime....As a Turk and as a Marxist, I can say that...it is useless to create a secret Communist organization [in Turkey]. If in l"'Kommunisticheskii Zagovor'," p. 33; Sayilgan, Turkiye'de Sol Hareketler, p. 196. Milliyet, Jan. 24, 1928. The propaganda which first drew police attention was apparently the slogan "Viva Lenin!" chalked on factory walls in Latin script, evidently addressed to the minority community. A Turkish worker audience, schooled if at all only in Arabic characters, might well not have been able to decipher and understand this message. Falih Rifki [Atay], "Un process," Le Millietl, Jan. 18, 1928, explained that the attention in the press to the trial of the Communists "could give a false impression that this was an important problem." He denied that the current regime in Turkey was responsible for any social crises and claimed it ws the bourgeoisie in Turkey that were suffering more than workers.

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Turkey a Communist Party [were] seen as a necessity, I would not fear to say it and I would personally found that party. [But] the organization of a Communist Party is not at all necessary for Turkey, for here capital in any event takes the form of state capital.1 The New Communist Line In the aftermath of the 1927 arrests, the Comintern loyalists in the Turkish Communist Party moved rapidly to identify the Kemalists as their number one enemy in Turkey. Working from prison, Deymer prepared and approved propaganda for circulation by those party members who had escaped arrest. Deymer tried to run the organization through Hiisamettin Ozdogu, who was released from prison after only a few months and speedily assumed the position of acting Secretary General. The relationship of these two may not have been entirely smooth, since Deymer apparently utilized the always individualistic Hikmet Kivilcimli as a channel to pass directives. Apparently discovery of Deymer's continuing role in the party administration led the authorities to shift him to a more isolated prison in Yozgat in October 1928.2 Under the impress of these events, the external party leadership began to characterize the Ankara regime as an exploiter of the workers. A report to the Comintern at the end of 1927 stated that "capitalist development of Turkey proceeds, as everywhere else, at the expense of the toiling masses." Instead of encouraging workers and peasants, the Ankara regime was accused of supporting the young Turkish bourgeoisie in its industrial development. Indeed, the Comintern found that "of the existing 1,900 factories, about 400 are subsidized by the government. Many others have been directly established by the government." And it noted that the authorities were engaged in intensive railway construction. But inasmuch as these activities exceeded the domestic resources available, the Ankara regime had undertaken to try to attract "foreign concessionaires" and had granted concessions to the non-Turkish bourgeoisie of Istanbul. The Communist leadership noted that even the Kurdish uprising in 1925 did not convince the Kemalists to move against feudal landowners in eastern Turkey. To the Comintern, the abolition of the "Ashar" tithes, with a substitution by taxes in money merely "accelerated differentiation among the peasants, creating on the one hand a class of rich farmers, and on the other impoverishing and pauperizing the broad masses of the peasantry." In this connection, the Turkish Communists condemned

l

Milliyet, Jan. 17-18, 1928; Ergiider, pp. 69-71, 74. Ismail Hiisnii Tokin, Dec. 20, 1969, explained to the author his version of Aydemir's final break with the Turkish Communist Party. ^Sayilgan, Turkiye'de Sol Hareketler, pp. 203, quoting "private sources" [allegedly a knowledgeable party member] within the party.

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Atatiirk by name for receiving "from the 'grateful' parliament a present of several thousand hectares of land and [organizing] a 'model farm.'" 1 On the political side, the Comintern report described the 1927 parliamentary elections as a sham, as all opposition parties were broken up or banned. No worker organizations worthy of the name existed and workers were "subjected to the fiercest persecution at the least attempt to" organize. While the Turkish Communists gave Atatiirk credit for doing much in regard to the separation of church and state, they noted that "the secularisation of the church still remains incomplete." Steps to give women rights were also held to be quite insufficient. The Communists even charged that a frankly "chauvinist policy" was being pursued toward Armenians, Jews, Greeks, and Arabs. These minorities, as well as the Kurds, were being subjected to forcible Turkification, according to the Comintern. And in foreign policy, Kemalist Turkey was judged to be "manoeuvering between friendship with Soviet Russia and a Western orientation which is recently becoming the more generally accepted policy."2 To meet this challenge, in December 1927 the Turks in the Comintern called the world Communist movement to action along six lines: First, to launch an "international campaign" to free those on trial in Turkey; • Second, to expose "the criminal acts of the Kemalist government" in threatening the Communists with death as traitors to the fatherland; • Third, to publicize the Turkish Communist Party as the "only defender" of the interests of the Turkish workers and peasants; • Fourth to secure international support for the Turkish Communists to prevent the Kemalists from "compromise" with imperialist reaction; • Fifth, to create a "united revolutionary front" of workers of all lands in opposition to Kemalist efforts to reach compromise with feudal reaction; and • Sixth, to "review" Turkish Communist relations with the Kemalist government.3

•

^Communist Party of Great Britain, The Communist International Between the Fifth & the Sixth World Congresses, p. 401. 2 Ibid, pp. 402-403. Ironically, on November 8, 1927, Soviet Ambassador Surits telegraphed the Soviet Foreign Ministry to the effect that Atatiirk had come to the reception marking the tenth anniversary of the Bolshevik Revoluiton to say that "while he lived,while he headed the state, alliance with the Soviet republic would have pride of place in Turkish foreign policy." His ideas were "not so far from the idea of the October revolution," but he "would act slowly and by other methods." He was called an "extreme nationalist," but "in fact he hated nationalism," and "all his sympathy was on the side of the workers, though 'for now he still cannot reveal this fully.'" See USSR, Dokymenty vneshneipolitiki SSSR, vol. 10, document 254. ^'"Kommunisticheskii Zagovor'," p. 32.

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What this review of relations would entail emerged more clearly at the Sixth Congress of the Comintern in August 1928. At this gathering, Turkish Communist External Bureau official Ali Cevdet (speaking under the name of "Fahri" in place of Deymer who was in jail in Turkey) charged that the Kemalists had evolved beyond the point of being merely a national bourgeoisie. Now they had become indistinguishable from their "erstwhile competitors, the compradore bourgeoisie." In these circumstances, Cevdet declared that the task of the Turkish Communist Party was uncompromisingly to "denounce the Kemalists to the masses of the workers in Turkey as the betrayers of the independence of the country, as betrayers of the revolution, as a counter-revolutionary class." He added that "we must establish a revolutionary fighting front of the workers and peasants against the Kemalist bourgeoisie." 1 It was not totally surprising to hear such defiant language from those outside of Turkey. The aggressive line, however, destroyed any lingering chance of reconciliation between the Comintern loyalists and Tor's clique, who felt increasingly under the spell of Atatiirk's reformist image. Moscow's partisans ridiculed the argument by the Tor faction that "capitalist development in Turkey bears an antimilitarist character and that in this period the [Kemalist] bourgeoisie not only represents the interests of its own class, but the interests of all classes in Turkey." In most scathing terms, the Comintern dismissed this faction as merely "a study circle." And it was accused of having: sabotaged the instructions of the Comintern and the decisions of the conference of 1926. It came out still more openly in favour of the opportunist viewpoint and even insisted on independence from the Comintern. The Comintern was, therefore, compelled to take other measures, as a result of which the situation in the party has improved. 2 The discomfort of these pro-Kemalist elements was further increased by Atatiirk's strong denunciation of "unpatriotic and anti-nationalist" elements that sought to disturb the social order. To a gathering in Eski§ehir on August 5, 1929, he said:

1 Inprecor, vol. 8, no. 76, Oct. 30, 1928, pp. 1408-1409. A more complete version is in Communist International, Stenograficheskii Otchet VI Kongressa Kominterna: Vypusk 4: Revoliutsionnoe dvizhenie v kolonial'nykh i polukolonial'nykh stranakh (Moscow: Gosudarstvennoe izdatel'stvo, 1929), pp. 352-58. Ali Cevdet also appealed for greater Middle East representation on the Executive Committee of the Comintern, arguing that that would assure greater orthodoxy of the Communist movement in the region. 2 Inprecor, vol. 8, no. 76, Oct. 30, 1928, pp. 1408-1409. The Communist Party of Great Britain, The Communist International Between the Fifth & Sixth World Congresses, p. 404.

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Efforts to violate the social order of the Turkish nation are doomed to defeat. The Turkish nation cannot accept the secret and dirty designs...of wretched, seditious fools...who want to work against themselves and against the supreme welfare of their country; and the Turkish nation is not a body that will tolerate them.... Those who want to divert it from its path are doomed to be crushed and annihilated. In this the peasants, workers, and especially our heroic army are wholeheartedly together. Let no one doubt this. Although in the formal text of his speech, he did not specifically name the "Communists" publicly as his target, he later added a notation in his own handwriting that "Communists are the greatest enemy of the Turkish world! They must be crushed wherever they are found." 1 Members of the Turkish Communist Party at the time acknowledged that Atatiirk was branding Communism a heresy that the new Republic would not tolerate. And in this climate, Aydemir moved to Ankara and further distanced himself from the party. Tor, on his release from jail, also severed his connection with the Moscow-line Turkish Communist Party.2 Even among those remaining in the party, however, cooperation was impossible. In addition to Deymer and his loyalists, there were those who the Comintern claimed "were driven to despair by the severe measures taken by the bourgeoisie against the working class" and thus "resorted to acts of individual heroism." This faction allegedly advocated "splitting" the union movement instead of working to infiltrate and take over the Kemalist trade unions — the principal Comintern objective at this point. The Comintern critics held that these elements "went too much to the Left in advocating slogans which are applicable only for highly developed capitalist countries."3 One cannot be sure of exactly who was the target of these strictures. Perhaps they were directed at Central Committee secretary Hiisamettin Ozdogu whom Deymer had criticized for excessive ambition and for "seducing" workers. Indeed, in warning the party apparatus the previous year Deymer had

1 Fethi Tevetoglu, Tiirkiye'de Sosyalist ve Komttnist Faaliyetler (1910-1960) (Ankara, 1967), pp.436-437, prints a photocopy of Atatiirk's handwritten note. Already the previous year the Ministry of Public Education had set up an Association for Protection against Harmful Publications, which even the progressive journalist Falih Rifki Atay had sadly admitted was necessary, not only to combat obscenities but "false scientific or intellectual work," a definition easily embracing Communism. See "Une initiative opportune," Le Milliett, Feb. 29,1928. 2 Ak§am, Aug. 8, 1929; §evket Siireyya Aydemir, pp. 437-58. Although in the 1960s there was debate in Turkey over whether Atatiirk specifically cited Communism as his target, Deymer in 1930 called Atatiirk's Eski§ehir speech as "an unmistakable threat" to the Communists. B. Ferdi, "Vostochnyi natsionalizm na kolenizkh pered imperializmom,". Kl, Jan. 1930, no. 1, p. 49. hnprecor, vol. 8, no. 76, Oct. 30, 1928, pp. 1408-1409.

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even called Ozdogu more dangerous than the Kemalist labor leaders in leading workers astray. 1 The continuing factionalism within the party was also revealed in the efforts at student agitation by the always eccentric Hikmet Kivilcimli (whose student focus was later said by his detractors within the movement to have reflected his homosexuality). Indeed, Deymer, in his report to the Balkan Secretariat in 1927 had also singled out the "Chief of the Communist Youth Federation" (a post that Kivilcimli appears to have occupied) for condemnation for acting "impulsively" and disregarding instructions. While Deymer worked closely with Kivilcimli for a period thereafter and the Comintern did not move against Kivilcimli at this time, it was apparently through monitoring his actions that the Ankara authorities were able to identify many provincial adherents of the party. A series of arrests in 1929 hit the ranks of student activists hard and further demoralized the party. 2

The Naam Hikmet

Interlude

These vicissitudes shook the Comintern's control over the Turkish Communist movement and paved the way for a new challenge to the External Bureau's authority, this time by Nazim Hikmet. An original poet of the most freewheeling and inventive sort, Nazim had been converted to Communism during his odyssey to Moscow in the early 1920s. While never completely orthodox in his interpretation of Communism, he was apparently intrigued by the revolutionary and anti-imperialist focus of this doctrine. His poetry revealed a visceral, emotional approach to revolution, but critics among his early Communist associates later accused him of not being well read in dogma. 3 If there were questions about his orthodoxy, there were none about his propensity to activism. The Kemalists arrested him in Rize as he and (Laz) Ismail Bilen returned to Turkey in July 1928. Transported to Ankara in October, he publicly denied having any relationship with the Turkish Communist Party, although he readily admitted to a Turkish journalist that he believed in Communism as a personal creed. Following his acquittal and the quashing of earlier charges against him, he quickly began to assert his 1

F.rgtider, p. 38. Tevetoglu, p. 403; Top§uoglu, p. 132. Milliyet, May 2, 1929, reported the arrests of the distributors of a two-page red and blue hectograph leaflet signed by the Turkish Communist Party and its Youth League. A copy of this leaflet is in Cerrahoglu, pp. 620-21. Another who might have fit the appellation "leftist" was Veterinary Major Hacioglu Salih, a radical active in Turkish Communist activity since the early days of the party. He was purged from the party as a "Menshevik" and 'Trotskyite" in 1927 and left Turkey shortly thereafter. See Harris, p. 145. ^Interview with §evket Siireyya Aydemir, Dec. 16, 1968 2

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pretensions to leadership of the Turkish Communist movement. In 1929 he was reported to have convened a meeting in the Istanbul suburb of Pendik to reorganize the Central Committee and to secure his election as its secretary. This enterprise was apparently not blessed by the Comintern, although it appears that the Third International had approved his return to Turkey. And his free-wheeling earned him the enmity of the émigré Communist leaders, when his initiative became known to them. Undoubtedly at Deymer's insistence, Nâzim Hikmet was soon to be condemned by the Comintern, which in the 1930s leveled a slashing attack on him as the leader of the "Trotskyite police opposition group," which was formed in 1930.1 One of the main points of divergence between Nâzim Hikmet and the Comintern was his insistence on using legal as well as illegal agitation, hence calling attention to himself in a way that made underground activity all but impossible. For example, he soon undertook a stormy public exchange with some of the leading intellectuals of the Atatiirk regime. He mounted these attacks from the pages of Resimli Ay, a popular journal with serious reformist pretensions run by the Sertel family, whose involvement with Communism was beginning to be notorious. Nâzim Hikmet's sharp thrust against "those who wrote what they pleased" electrified the atmosphere by his determination to take on certain established Kemalist literary idols of the day, who were, he stated boldly, "undeservedly raised to this rank."2 Among his targets was the author, Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu, future standard-bearer of the Kadro movement, who had intemperately made disparaging remarks about the younger generation in returning Nâzim Hikmet's fire. And zeal for encouraging the downtrodden led Nâzim Hikmet in July 1929 to pen a poem entitled "The City that Lost Its Voice," which triggered his arrest on charges of inciting strikers. This course of events elicited a press campaign by conservative Kemalist parliamentarian Hamdullah Suphi Tannover, who labeled these efforts at "dethroning the idols of the Turkish people" as "conscious methodic Communist propaganda" in favor of "Communistic goals." Nâzim Hikmet was acquitted in the trials of the Communists rounded up at that time. 3 Yet after the demise of Resimli Ay, one of whose editors was sentenced in February 1930 "for inciting to class war," this iconoclastic activity ended for a time. But Nâzim Hikmet's individuality made him restive in bowing to the orders and directives of the 1 "Tiirkiye'de Sol Akimlar," Yiin, no. 198, Jan. 11, 1967, p. 6; F. [Deymer?], 'The Fresh Wave of Persecutions in Turkey," Inprecor, vol. 13, no. 31, July 14, 1933, p. 690, charges Nazim Hikmet with being a Trotskyite %azim Hikmet, "Putlari Kinyoruz," Resimli Ay, June 1929. 3 Pravda weighed in on the subject of these arrests, occasioning a rebuttal in Milliyet, which condemned the Soviet paper for "considering Communism sacred." But to Milliyet no world cause could be considered more sacred than Turkish nationalism. 'The Turkish worker above all works with national and patriotic feelings." See Milliyet, July 6, 1929.

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Communist hierarchy. 1 Later Nazim Hikmet and his associates would be also accused by the Moscow-line party of "stealing the party press" and its type to use for legal publications to enrich themselves. 2 The Comintern bill of particulars against Nazim Hikmet included doctrinal failings. He was said to have been "hostile to Marxism and Leninism." In fact, Orak Qekig in 1936 accused him of having caricatured Leninism and of having maintained a "link" to Trotsky who was at the end of the 1920s in residence in Biiyiik Ada in Istanbul. No evidence has yet come to light to show what, if anything, the nature of this link might have been, and it is doubtful that it existed. Also Nazim Hikmet was said to have been guilty of propaganda that would drive prospective recruits from the party by advocating the slogan: "To join the party is to go to prison." In addition, he was accused of having sold out to the "ipek§i brothers," movie moguls of the times. Finally, he was charged with being a consummate opportunist who "wore Communist insignia just to get money." For the same reason he was said to have engaged in a "phony t i f f ' with the "reactionary" Peyami Safa. As a result, the Comintern loyalists who put out Orak £ekig warned party members: "Here comes Nazim Hikmet, give him a beating!" 3 Reacting against Nazim Hikmet's administration of the party, Comintern loyalists in Turkey complained to the external bureau in Berlin. In a letter of September 9, 1929, this so-called "Turkish Opposition" [dissenters against Nazim Hikmet] proclaimed that "we are convinced that we are carrying on further the gigantic struggle unshakably and that we are doing all in our power, even the impossible, in order to attain our goal, the proletarian world revolution." The letter writers disparaged those who had escaped incarceration, insisting on the contrary that "those who would save the proletariat from slavery and lead its liberation struggle are those who are either exiled or thrown in jail." To these Comintern loyalists, Nazim Hikmet and his associates, on the other hand, were "frightened by the difficulty of the struggles" and "abandoned the proletariat to the claws of the bourgeoisie," crawling away "as a mouse to its hole." Undeterred by danger that shadowed

Nazim Hikmet, "Sesini Kaybeden §ehir," Resimli Ay, July 1929; United States, Department of State, Constantinople Embassy Dispatch no. 817, July 31, 1929. Karaosmanoglu had written that not much could be expected from the young generation because it had been "fed on straw" during the war. The Times (London), Feb. 27, 1930, reported the sentencing of Sabiha Sertel and Behcet of Resimli Ay. 2 Z.V., "Kallej ve Donek: Nazim Hikmet," Orak Qekig, no. 2, Jan. 7, 1936, p. 4, reproduced in photocopy in l§finin Sesi, no. 236, June 13, 1983, p. 17. A transcription of this text is in l§ginin Sesi, no. 230, Apr. 11, 1983, p. 13. While some Turkish Communists more recently have questioned whether such language was actually used by Orak Qekig in regard to Nazim Hikmet, this article echoes words in Comintern reports of the times and the photocopy shows no signs of having been retouched. The party press in question may have been, however, merely a crude hectographic device. 3 Ibid.

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them constantly, this "Turkish opposition" against Nâzim Hikmet agreed with the Berlin émigrés that "we must now be very cautious, that we must begin work artfully, that we must deceive the devil himself' in trying to assemble "the former opposition" [i.e., the Comintern loyalists] into a new young, healthy, Leninist opposition under the slogan: "strictest illegality and closest unity." 1 Changing Views ofKemalism §efik Hiisnii Deymer was unwilling or unable to deal with these mushrooming challenges to party unity posed by Turkish activists inside the country. Moreover, the climate for Communist activity was clearly growing ever more unpromising with the annual roundup of agitators by the Kemalist regime. Thus on his release from prison on April 17, 1929, Deymer slipped out of Turkey and headed for Berlin to rejoin the External Bureau. One of his first acts was to take part in the July 1929 meeting of the Comintern Executive Committee. The report of the Turkish Communist Party to this body at this time deviated sharply from the previous line which had credited the Kemalists with praise-worthy revolutionary accomplishments. Indeed, it was somewhat at variance with the line in Pravda in June 1929, which when commenting on the trial of Turkish Communists in Izmir asserted that the Communists would "win over" the bourgeoisie. 2 The Comintern Executive now stated categorically that history had shown that "the example that Turkey gave us demonstrates that people cannot advance in an independent political and economic direction under the leadership of the bourgeoisie." Further, "the Turkish example is a typical example of the degeneration of the Kemalist revolution in the face of international imperialism." The Communist external leadership saw the breakdown of the social base of Kemalism in both what it believed was the return of nationalized land to the traditional landlords and in what it considered to be the strengthening of the commercial control of the bourgeoisie. And these émigrés condemned the Kemalists for exploiting workers by increasing their tax load. Communist commentators in the Comintern were no more generous in their appraisal of what the Kemalists had done for women. While a leader writing under the name of S. Bedri admitted that "the legal position of women in Turkey has been corrected in important measure by recently passed laws," this writer denied that in fact there was significant improvement as "only when

1 Die Fahne des Kommunismus, no. 35, Sept. 20, 1929, pp. 276-277. See Pravda, June 29, 1929. Pravda's claim was sharply rejected by the mainline press in Turkey. See "Les ¿lucubrations du journal 'Pravda' de Moscou," Le Milliyet, July 6, 1929. 2

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women are made aware, have education, and especially are in a position freed economically from dependence on men can these rights be used fully." 1 At the same time, the Comintern was fearful that Turkey seemed to be slipping away from close relations with the Kremlin. The performance of Foreign Minister Tevfik Rtigtu Aras who spoke against Soviet Foreign Minister Maksim Litvinov and in favor of the position of Italy in the preparatory commission for the Geneva disarmament conference of the League of Nations in 1929 was held up for criticism. As a result, the report to the Comintern ended by cautioning that "because of present events in Turkey, we must reinspect yet one more time our conduct toward the Kemalists." 2 An article in Kommunisticheskii Internatsional at this time gave a preview of what this reinspection would find. It forthrightly stated that "Kemalism...is already an anachronism." 3 It complained that the "savage fight of the Kemalist press against the USSR" in June 1929 in conjunction with the trial of 35 Communists in Izmir was "a mere illustration of the capitulation of Kemalism before foreign capital." And the Comintern commentator went so far as to accuse the Kemalist regime of "readiness to fight the USSR and to include itself in an anti-Soviet front." Indeed, it accused the Kemalists of recreating the pan-Turkist policies of the Young Turks toward Central Asia and the Caucasus in conjunction with the imperialist powers of the world. In Communist eyes, Ankara was sponsoring a campaign in the Turkish press against Soviet government, calling the USSR, "the oppressor of our brother Muslims," "which does not fulfill commercial treaties," and "eagerly drinks Turkish blood." On the internal scene, the Republican Peoples Party was branded "a deadly enemy" of the Turkish proletariat which "ruthlessly" broke the strikes of workers in Istanbul and suppressed unions except those under the control of the Ankara government. The Comintern writer went on to explain that at its outset, "Kemalism was revolutionary." As a result, during the period 19201925 the Turkish Communist Party had been willing to support the Kemalist government "to the extent that it struggled against imperialism." Moreover, the Communists had "tried to push the Kemalists to the left toward decisive struggle with imperialism and the liquidation of the remnants of the previous Communist International Executive Committee, Report to the 13th Session of the Tenth General Meeting of the 6th World Congress of the Comintern, July 3-29, 1929, as given in Fatma Bursali (trans.) Turkiye Komiinist ve I$gi Hareketi (Istanbul: Aydinlik Yayinlari, 1979), pp. 216-17; and S. Bedri, 'Turkiye'de Kadinlann Uyamsv' in Bursali, pp. 218-20. 2 Report to the 13th Session, Ibid, pp.216-217. o P.K., "Imperialisticheskoe perepozhdenie Kemalizma," Kommunisticheskii Internatsional, no 36-37, Sept. 13, 1929, pp. 46-54. The author specifically insisted that "the formula 'neither capitalism nor Communism' was clearly impractical." That formula would become the leitmotiv of the Kadro movement.

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regime." But now "Kemalism did not want to deepen the national revolution and even less to move it on the path of non-capitalist development!" Hence, all that was left for the Turkish Communist Party was to "push the counterrevolutionary ruling Peoples Party to destruction." This Comintern article also made a clear statement of the current Communist ideology concerning the development of the underdeveloped world, for which Turkey served "as the most striking illustration." In the period of imperialism, said the author "backward colonial or semi-colonial countries cannot depend on the independent development of their economy...by the channel of capitalist development." For Communists, "only the non-capitalist path of development can guarantee the political and economic independence of the country." In fact, "if a backward country does not include itself in the orbit of Soviet economy, it is doomed to the role of the being an object of exploitation by finance capital." And just "trying sometimes to show off left phraseology" as the Kemalists were wont to do would not save Turkey from this fate, said the Communist author. From his secure refuge abroad, Deymer also issued his own personal detailed critique of the problems facing the national-revolutionary movement, revealing his deep doubts that such movements could maintain their independence against the forces of imperialism. He had now come to the conclusion that "the dominant tendency flowing from its capitalist class nature obliges [any national liberation movement] definitely to seek rapprochement with the camp of reaction and of imperialist finance." Deymer identified this reactionary course as part of a two-stage process of development that he regarded as characteristic of Eastern countries: " 1 ) the process of rapprochement of the native bourgeoisie and its militant organizations with imperialist capitalism;" and "2) the radicalization of the popular masses...under the hegemony of the working class headed by the Communist Parties." 1

The New Turkish Communist Party Action Program These Comintern views were enshrined in greater detail in the final version of the Turkish Communist Party Action Program, which had been under revision since 1925. 2 This document in two sections was finally elaborated in mid-1929, after Deymer's release from jail; an additional preface 1b. Ferdi, "Vostochnyi natsionalizm na koleniakh pered imperializmom," KI, Jan. 1930, no. 1, pp. 50-51. ^For the text of the Turkish Communist Party Action Program and its appended "theses" as well as the preface written later to introduce it, see appendix 1.

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to the document added later at the time of publication makes clear that it was not put in final form in mid-1927 as a number of Turkish sources allege. 1 According to the preface, the 1929 version was then approved by the second session of the Political Secretariat of the Executive Committee of the Comintern at its meeting in February 1930. It would not be published until the start of 1931, though the party leaders asserted that it was communicated to party members upon ratification a year earlier. As finally published, it was given a long preface that was composed in January 1931 to give a detailed theoretical analysis of Turkey's position in the world, bringing up to date an explanation of how and why it had gotten to its present position. The actual 1929 party program consisted of 58 numbered articles containing prescriptions for actions that were incumbent on the party. A second section entitled "Theses" gave a twelve-part analysis of how the Peoples Party had changed from playing a revolutionary role to one of "surrender to imperialism." It also reviewed the factional difficulties experienced by the party in the various stages of its existence up to 1929 and the need to combat "liquidator-opportunists" who had "infiltrated" the party. 2 The new party program differed significantly from earlier drafts. It called the party (article 1) "the sole real bulwark against the new imperialist enslavement of Turkey." It proclaimed that only through the "establishment of a dictatorship of the workers and peasants in Soviet form" could the victory of the national-democratic revolution be assured. The program (article 2) committed the Communist Party to carry on "unceasing and stubborn struggle against the Kemalist Peoples Party" to unmask "the anti-popular character of this party." To the Communists (article 3), the "struggle against the Kemalist Peoples Party is indistinguishable from the struggle against imperialism." This article thus summoned the Turkish Communists to prepare, enlighten, and call upon the workers and peasants to struggle "for the truly revolutionary dictatorship of the proletariat and the peasantry." To accomplish this task, the See, for example, Dogu Perin5ek, Sahte TKP'nin Revizyonist Programmin Elegtirisi (Istanbul: Aydinlik Yayinlari, 1976), pp. 41-67. He incorrectly identifies this program as the one which was drafted in 1926, whereas if he had read the InkilapYolu preamble, he would have seen that it clearly states that the program and theses were "written in mid-1929 by the provisional TCP Central Committee" and ratified in 1930. 2

S o m e researchers (e.g. Tevetoglu, p.405) have reported that inkilap Yolu no. 3-4 in 1931 published the program. In this claim, they are quoting the Russian edition translated by Ivar Spector below. I have followed the version in ¡¡ginin Sesi, nos. 243-252, Oct. 3, 1983-Feb. 13, 1984, which did have access to inkilap Yolu KUlliatt, no. 1, published in Berlin about Jan. 1931 (the exact date does not appear on the reproduced cover) and which contained an explanatory preface, the formal program, and twelve numbered theses (see appendix 1). This is clearly a more complete and more reliable source. It is, however, missing two pages of the inkilap Yolu Kulliati text of the preface, a section not published elsewhere. The numbered programmatic part of the program with a somewhat different introduction was also published in Russian in Programmnye Dokumenty, pp. 147-58; Ivar Spector, The Soviet Union and the Muslim World: 1917-1958 (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 3rd ed., 1959), pp. 111-27 gave an English translation of the Russian version.

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party sought (article 4) to organize "factory committees" and to penetrate trade unions. A second focus of Communist activity (article 5) was the destruction of "all remnants of feudalism and landowning usurers," whose position was said to have been strengthened by the new Kemalist tax system and its links with imperialism. As tactics to advance its cause, the Turkish Communist party enunciated (article 7) a "series of transitional political demands" to "lead the masses to direct revolutionary struggle" for the defense of its interests. The party declared (article 8) that religious officials, large landowners, and usurers should be deprived of the right to vote and that "only by worker and peasant populist, revolutionary dictatorship can the questions that face the proletariat and peasantry's main masses be resolved, not through parliamentary struggle." It thus called (article 10) for "arming of workers and peasants" in a militia and the abolition of professional armies. It demanded (article 11) "selfdetermination" including the right to separate from Turkey for national minorities, specifically for the Kurds and Lazes, and condemned Kemalist efforts at their assimilation. It advocated (article 12) expropriation of all property belonging to officials of the sultan's regime as well as (article 16) nationalization of all foreign-owned enterprises without compensation. It demanded (article 13) a general amnesty for jailed members of the Communist Party. It called (article 15) for the expulsion of foreign missionaries. It committed itself (article 19) to "violent propaganda against the danger of imperialist war that threatens the Soviet Union at every moment." And it went so far as to urge (article 20) "political and economic federation with the USSR." At home, the Turkish Communist Party insisted (article 22) on the freedom to organize unions and strikes as well as the freedom of the press and of assembly. For the peasants it sought (article 24) land to be distributed from that confiscated without compensation from the large landowners. It called (article 36) for education to be controlled by "worker-peasant committees." The party also undertook (article 39) to pay special attention to youth to imbue young workers with Communist ideology and revolutionary fervor. The Communists engaged themselves (article 43) to promote women's rights. And finally, the party promised (article 44) to establish a Red Army and a revolutionary militia. The aim of these demands and activity (articles 45-58) was to set up a worker-peasant government "under the hegemony of the proletariat, led by its vanguard, the Turkish Communist Party." The new Communist program was both an exercise in unreality that would gain it few adherents in Turkey and at the same time it was thoroughly unsuited to healing the existing disarray within the ranks of the party inside of Turkey. Even many of the members outside of the Tor faction were not

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prepared to adopt such a categorical declaration of war against the Kemalist regime. Moreover, the new programmatic line represented a repudiation of the worker or "ouvrieriste" orientation that had characterized Turkish Communist tactics up to that time and had called for agitation among factory workers as the principal means of attaining power. Indeed, the stress on the peasants represented a new departure for the urban-oriented intelligentsia, who in fact formed the leadership cadre of the party and its many factions. The twelve "theses" that followed the action program presented the intellectual grounds for this radical policy, declaring that "the national liberation movement in Turkey depended on the USSR" (thesis l ) . 1 The Turkish revolution was led by the middle-size commercial bourgeoisie, because the proletariat had little class consciousness and was unable to play an independent role as a class (thesis 2). Despite winning the war against large landowners and the bourgeoisie linked to imperialism (thesis 3), economically Turkey remained a semi-colony of imperialism with banks, transportation facilities, and utilities as well as some light industry in the hands of foreign capitalists (thesis 4). The low level of industrial development and of amassing of capital was forcing the Kemalist bourgeoisie to attract foreign capital to the country anew. In view of the class composition of the Kemalist government, Turkey was unable to follow the socialist path "bravely" with the USSR and "was developing in the direction of surrendering to foreign capital." The duty of Communists was to expose the maneuvers of the Peoples Party and to organize the mass of workers to struggle against its government. The elimination of foreign capital from the "commanding heights" of the Turkish economy was not resolved. That could be done only by the working class, which must continue the struggle to the end, i.e., to the destruction of the Republican Peoples Party (thesis 5). The national revolution had been arrested halfway because the level of class consciousness of the peasants was low and the peasantry was deprived of the leadership of the working class (thesis 6). Presently the [Republican] Peoples Party was exploiting the peasantry through taxes to fund state industry (thesis 7). The Kemalists were following a reactionary and counter-revolutionary policy toward the question of nationalities in Turkey (thesis 8). Kemalism's progressive élan was spent; henceforth only the working class could carry out revolution (thesis 9). Through economic development, the proletariat was expanding and gaining in class consciousness. That would rapidly transform the popular bourgeois revolution which the Kemalists had begun into a social revolution (thesis 10). The [Republican] Peoples Party was said to be going through a deep crisis under imperialist pressure (thesis 11). After effective Communist work up to

The theses did not appear with the program translated from "Documents of the Programs of the Communist Parties of the East" by Ivar Spector in The Soviet Union and the Muslim World 1917-1958, pp. 114-127. For their text see appendix 1.

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1925, "White Terror" led to two years of party passivity; purges in 1927 have set the party back on the proper Comintern line in its struggle against the Peoples Party. Now the Communists must struggle against "renegades" and organize labor under "iron discipline" (thesis 12). However satisfying to its authors, this program would not position the party for success in influencing ideological development in Turkey. It showed that the party had moved away from the stances it had adopted in the wake of the declaration of the Republic that might have allowed for some form of coexistence with the Kemalists and influence on their thinking. The categorical identification of the Republican Peoples Party as the enemy allowed for no compromise. It cast the Turkish Communist Party as an organization akin to a fifth column and not one that could aspire to compete legally on the political scene.

CHAPTER IV: The Challenge of the Great Depression

Just as the Turkish Communist Party finished drafting its new program, it faced one of the major challenges that stunned the world between the two world wars: the coming of the Great Depression. In theory, that world-wide phenomenon should have offered Communists myriad opportunities to broaden and deepen their ranks in every country with the apparent failure of capitalism. But blinded by Stalinist dialectics, the Turkish Communist Party proved unable to anticipate events or take significant advantage of the new situation; it was forced to play the role of merely reacting to factors beyond its control. Atattirk's consolidation of power was one of those factors to which it adapted unsuccessfully. In the years after 1925, he had deepened his grip on the internal structure of the Republican Peoples Party, which at the same time he used as his vehicle to dominate the political scene at large. Elections to the Grand National Assembly in the fall of 1927 provided an excellent opportunity to remove all remnants of opposition in the parliament as well as to eliminate those he considered lukewarm supporters. Those purged would be replaced by younger men who had experience in economic, agricultural and professional affairs. By this means, he was seeking to reform the party to be able to administer the country more efficiently. When the indirect and controlled parliamentary elections of September 2, 1927, had returned to a man the candidates that Atatiirk had selected, he was ready to convene a General Republican Peoples Party Congress to legalize his gains. At this Congress which met in October 1927, he orchestrated new statutes which confirmed him as Permanent President of the party. The proviso was even added to the effect that this article could never be altered. Atattirk's control henceforth rested on a firm base. At the same time, the Congress adapted the Republican Peoples Party to a monopolist position in the country. The party arrogated to itself the right of approval over nominations to all positions of authority inside the country. From the village alderman on up, all were subject to the control of the Republican Peoples party inspectors. The party had thus extended itself to large areas of political, economic, and social life, establishing the mechanisms for a thorough-going paternalist regime. The end of free parliamentary criticism brought no lull in government efforts to solve Turkey's financial problems. Republican leaders recognized that economic grievances were responsible for stimulating opposition on the

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political level. The centers of hostility to the government had all been located in regions that had suffered because of disruption of trade or stagnation of agriculture. Thus, the government replied with a program of limited land reform for the troubled eastern provinces, while on May 28, 1927, it passed the Law for the Encouragement of Industry which it hoped would stimulate economic recovery in the populated centers. Both these measures had a certain effect, especially as the years 1927 and 1928 represented the crest of a wave of general prosperity. Neither measure was able to strike at the root of the Turkish dilemma, however, and it remained necessary to import vast quantities of manufactured goods. When the government's steps to handle economic difficulties were put to the test in the world-wide depression which began in 1929, it was obvious that they were woefully insufficient. Nonetheless, a new generation was emerging, men versed in the intricacies of modern finance and business. A start had been made toward the creation of a purely Turkish middle class in whose hands would lie the ultimate fate of the Kemalist revolution. Although Turkey had tried to escape former European financial entanglements, the dependency on foreign trade meant that economic conditions in the country remained linked with those of the rest of the world. For all the fine phrases from the authorities in Ankara, Turkey could not stand alone or unaffected by developments outside the borders. No slogan of "Turkey for the Turks" could nullify the impact of the 1929 depression. Within an astonishingly short time, the Turkish economy seemed to be falling apart at the seams. Despite the previous year's optimism, the government was obliged to confess its precarious position and consider radical measures to prevent economic collapse. No one was more determined than Atatiirk to find an effective solution to the difficulties. He must have recognized that where a revolt based on return to the past might fail, drastic economic failure could tumble his regime. He saw it as imperative to alleviate conditions without delay. Most Turks were living too close to the edge to allow margin for error. With this view, Atatiirk first attempted to restore business confidence in his State of the Nation speech to parliament on November 1, 1929, where he put economic mobilization in the foreground. The government immediately followed with far-reaching controls on foreign trade—in effect, taking a leaf out of the Communist book—and on currency manipulations. The budget, too, was drastically reduced in an effort to avoid a deficit. The government was straining to its utmost to salvage the situation. And it largely failed. Spring of 1930 brought no essential change in the country's financial position. It was obvious that the economic crisis paralyzing Turkey would be protracted. As this realization spread, latent opposition grew both throughout Anatolia at large and inside the National Assembly itself. Increasingly, blame for the serious financial difficulties was focused on Ismet Inonii's administration.

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Toward the end of March 1930 the first open evidence of this discontent appeared. The Istanbul newspaper, Yarin, launched an intensive campaign against the Inonii government. It had been newly founded by Arif Oru?, a journalist who—as editor of Seyyare-i Yeni Diinya in Eski§ehir—had been on the periphery of Communist activity in that city during the revolt of £erkes Etem at the end of 1920. Hitting especially at the "present parlous economic situation" which it blamed on faulty cabinet appointments, Yarin called Inonii to resign. This attack continued for some ten days before the government finally moved to arrest Arif Oru§ and sentence him to a month in jail for printing false news calculated to cause unrest. The very fact that an editor dared thus to belabor the administration and that he was allowed to do so for as long as ten days before being silenced gave rise to speculation that Yarin reflected, if only indirectly, Atatiirk's own feelings. Despite categorical denials, rumors spread that a rift was developing between Atatiirk and his Prime Minister. 1

Purging the Party With its principal leaders now outside of Turkey, the Turkish Communist Party was unable effectively to exploit this opportunity. Despite the assurance that the Communist Party was back on Moscow's track, the Comintern found Nazim Hikmet's stewardship of the party thoroughly out of tune with the desires of the external leadership for illegal activity to organize workers eventually to challenge the regime. At the beginning of 1930, therefore, a new leadership cadre of Communists from abroad was sent to Istanbul to carry the word to loyalist party members that the Comintern had expelled from the organization Nazim Hikmet and his close associates. It is not clear whether Hasan Ali Ediz, who headed this team invoking the authority of the External Bureau, had a mandate to replace Nazim Hikmet, for he himself was soon to be purged from the party. But Ediz did assert his claim to party leadership and presided over a wholesale housecleaning of the organization. Indeed, the Turkish Communist Party's illegal organ, Orak Qekig, refounded a few years later would report that by the early 1930s a total of 99 party members had been purged or put on the party's "Black List." 2 In this situation, the Communist Party found it particularly difficult to devise effective policy.

1 Oriente Moderno, 1930, vol. 10, pp. 186, 237; Gotthard Jäschke, "Die Türkei seit dem Weltkriege," Die Welt des Islams, Band 12, Heft 4, June 1931, pp. 143-145,147. ginin Sesi, no. 233, May 2, 1983, p. 11, printed the list as originally published in Orak Cekic, Dec. 20, 1935.

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The Free Party Experiment Within the Republican Peoples Party, matters came to a head in July 1930. A new Kurdish revolt, which had broken out the previous month, was in full swing in the rough terrain near the border with Iran, and the government was the object of criticism from many quarters. On July 23, 1930, Atatiirk received Fethi Okyar, then Ambassador to Paris, at Yalova to discuss plans for the foundation of a new political party. Fethi Okyar had always represented a moderate and conciliatory wing of the Republican Peoples Party and had been long viewed as a possible rival for inonii. Personally he was on good terms with Atatiirk and there was no doubt that he accepted whole-heartedly the basic Kemalist outlook. Yet he was not compromised by the somewhat heavy-handed approach of Inonii's regime during the latter 1920s. He was widely seen as uncontaminated by the government's failures. He was thus the logical choice as a "safety valve" to dissipate some of the underlying economic discontent. Atatiirk clearly hoped that with two parties, both under his control, to debate measures to deal with the crisis and to serve as a check on each other, more efficient government might result. Moreover, to make sure that the two-party system would operate within the parameters of Kemalism, the new Free Republican Party (also in English sometimes called the Liberal Republican Party) put into its bylaws and program the main principles of Kemalism, including the commitment to laicism. 1 However, in contrast to the Republican Peoples party it advocated greater economic and political liberalism. News of Atatiirk's plan for the establishment of the Free Party crated ready response throughout the country. Yarin and the newly established Son Posta led the Istanbul press in welcoming the new organization. Much of the politically aware segment of the population appeared to see in the new body new hopes for the solution to the country's ills. However fraudulently created, the Free Party met a deep-seated need in the country. For that reason, from the very first the suspicion was aroused that the new party might not only elect the quota which Atatiirk allotted it, but might even manage to gain an absolute majority in the National Assembly. Supposition that a change in the composition of parliament would give a less reformist appearance to Kemalism ignited new fears among the Communists. Indeed, the ambiguities that the Free Party represented raised an issue that would cause contention within the Communist movement as well.

' For these statutes see Mete Tun?ay, Turkiye CumhuriyetVnde TEK-PARTi Kurulmasi (1923-1931) (Ankara: Kurt Yayinlari, 1981), pp. 398-405.

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Despite the sweeping purge undertaken by Ediz, the Turkish Communist Party attempted to react by launching a barrage of propaganda. A new clandestine weekly, Kizil Istanbul, was inaugurated in July 1930 as the organ of the Istanbul provincial committee of the Communist Party. A badly printed, hectographically reproduced collection of sheets, it addressed itself to workers, claiming to voice their desires as well as those of the party. But, in fact, it stressed Comintern interest in topics as extraneous to the Turkish domestic scene as opposition to the danger of war in the Far East and the supposed rivalry between England and America to subjugate colonies. In fact, the second issue of Kizil Istanbul led off with an article proclaiming August 1 as the day of struggle against imperialists who were responsible for instigating the danger of war. And it insisted that "The Soviet Union is the sole fatherland of all the workers of the world!" 1 Kiz.il Istanbul also featured articles by the Ediz group on the situation in Turkey. Among the latter were analyses defining banditry in the Kurdish areas of eastern Turkey as social protest against feudal oppression, but noting that the peasants, because of their economic misery, were falling under the influence of reactionary forces. In line with the conclusion that the Kemalists were becoming the cat's-paw of imperialism, Kizil Istanbul urged the members of the Communist Party to work to turn this unrest into "the path of revolution." The new publication voiced its confidence that however much "state forces, the army, and gendarmes" increase their pressure, the "Kemalist dictatorship" cannot stop such movements from arising in Kurdistan and elsewhere. That judgment led Ediz and his followers to repeat the Communist mantra: "National Minorities and the Kurds among them must have the right to set their own fate." 2 Kizil Istanbul also relayed instructions to the party to set up factory cells in accord with Comintern directives, directing these factory cells to strive to awaken class hostility among workers against their bosses and against the bourgeoisie as their true enemies. Cells were to use a "revolutionary diagnosis" of bread-and-butter issues to attract adherents, but Communists were also to distribute propaganda outside of factories and to organize demonstrations of the broader masses where possible. 3

Kizil Istanbul issues 1 and 2 were reproduced in i§finin Sesi in 1983; see especially "Bizim Gazetemiz," reproduced in ¡¡ginin Sesi, no. 237, June 27, 1983, p. 11, which identified the purposes of the weekly. This issue also contained the usual exhortations to workers not to "spare moral and material aid" to effect "class liberation." "1. Agustos," Kizil Istanbul, July 17, 1930, p. 1, reproduced in igginin Sesi, no. 238, July 11, 1983, p. 17. 2 Ahmet, "§arktaki Koylii Harekati," Kizil Istanbul, no. 1, July 10, 1930, pp. 1-2, reproduced in isginin Sesi, no. 237, June 27, 1983, p. 11. 3 Ahmet, "Fabrika Hiicrelerimiz Nasil £ah§mahdir?," Kizil Istanbul, no. 2, July 17, 1930, p. 1, in i§ginin Sesi, no. 238, July 11, 1983, p. 17.

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The discussion of revolution and the accompanying attacks on the Kemalists as fascists in this underground literature led the authorities to arrest Ediz and his leading colleagues in Ankara and Zonguldak in August and September 1930. inkilâp Yolu The appropriate tactics for dealing with Turkish reality were not seen with more clarity by the émigré leadership than they were by the Kizil Istanbul editors. The Comintern leaders and the Turkish External Bureau remained wedded to the doctrinaire approach set by the Executive Committee of the Communist International. This was immediately apparent in the content of the new journal inkilâp Yolu which was established in August 1930 as the organ of the Turkish Communist Party Central Committee. It was published abroad by the External Bureau in Berlin and was smuggled into Turkey to be distributed among the leadership cadre. A finely printed product which in format resembled other Comintern products, its appearance was nothing like the crude hectograph printing of Kizil Istanbul. The contents of the first issue of inkilâp Yolu indicated that it was firmly in the Stalinist camp. Besides reprinting the speech of Stalin at the 16th Congress of the Bolshevik Party and Molotov's report on the Comintern, it featured an article titled "Let's Hear Lenin" which celebrated the importance of having a party publication to strengthen weak organizations. Beyond that, it carried articles of interest to the Comintern on the "liberation struggles" of India, China, and Egypt. But the bulk of its material concerned Turkey. The journal discussed its aims in an introduction embroidering on the theme of how essential press organs were to the Turkish movement. It preened itself that by establishing inkilâp Yolu it was carrying out the duty of constant contact between the central committee and the rank and file, although the difficulties of reaching the party membership inside Turkey from Berlin in timely fashion made this claim entirely hollow. Nor was there more reality in its claims that, thanks to establishing this channel, the obstacles to the rapid expansion of the Communist movement would be removed and a new period would open for the party, inkilâp Yolu announced that it would show the way to those who directed the revolution of the workers and the revolutionary peasant movement. It promised to remain "faithful to the letter" to the political path sketched out by the Communist International and, apologizing for the lack of direct contact, solicited communications from party members to be forwarded through provincial leaders to the central committee.

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Symptomatically it proclaimed as its main slogan "immediately to correct errors which are identified and to take on a constantly improving shape." 1 A major analysis carried by the first issue of inkilap Yolu treated the "Second Kurdish Uprising," in terms that reflected §efik Hiisnii Deymer's somewhat critical approach. This article identified the Kurdish revolt as the "product of extraordinary social tension and poverty," but it warned that "in the struggle, the peasantry is being horribly deceived" by following the lead of reactionaries. The poor peasantry allegedly did so because it did not see any other organizations struggling for its liberation inasmuch as "the Turkish Communist Party had not yet done its duty in this area"—a theme that Deymer would repeat in his continuing stream of analyses on the nationalities question. At the same time, Inkilap Yolu claimed that the Kurdish uprising was a part of British provocative policy against the Soviet Union. Indeed, according to this version, neither the imperialists nor Turkish reactionaries involved in the Kurdish uprising had a real aim to create an "independent Kurdistan." In this situation, as stated in the 11th article of its party program, the Turkish Communist Party "recognizes absolutely the right of national minorities to determine their own fate, including the right to separate from Turkey." 2 In another major article, inkilap Yolu inspected the "Economic Face of Kemalism." 3 It was highly critical of the four limited areas where it alleged that Ataturk's government was taking economic action: "the building of the seat of government in Ankara, railroad construction, protection of industry, and the creation of a state bank." Because these were said to rely on amassing state capital through economizing, they were judged to be "still-born." What had happened, the Communists argued, was that the Kemalist bourgeoisie had merely enriched itself with the property of the displaced Greek ethnic bourgeoisie forced out in the exchange of populations agreed in the Lausanne Treaty rather than amassing capital through saving. In other words, the Turkish bourgeoisie took on the exploitive role that the Greek bourgeoisie had performed in the past. The Communist appraisal held that Kemalist railway building policy was carried out at the cost of impoverishing the population. Yet in Izmir, for example, a small bus line and a few trucks threatened the viability of the railroad there. As for the construction of Ankara, after Turkey stopped being a 1 i^ginin Sesi, no. 276, Feb. 11, 1985, p.15 and No. 277, Feb. 25, 1985, p. 15, reprinted inkilap Yolu's introductory article: "Ba§lamazdan evvel Gegmi^e tenkidi bir baki§" 2 /?pinin Sesi, no. 279, Mar. 25, 1985, p. 15, no. 280, Apr. 8, 1985, p. 15, and no. 282, May 8, 1985, p. 15, reprinted "Ikinci Kurt isyaru," Inkilap Yolu, no. 1, July-Aug. 1930. ^Osman, "Kemalizmin Iktisadi Cehresi," inkilap Yolu, no. 1, July-Aug. 1930, reprinted in t§ginin Sesi, no. 294, Nov. 11,1985, p. 15 and ¡¡ginin Sesi, no. 295, Nov. 2 5 , 1 9 8 5 , p. 14.

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European government, it had to move its capital to Ankara. But the Communists noted that its bourgeois representatives could not stand to live there "even for four months." The construction of Ankara was totally unlike the construction of new industrial cities or agricultural centers in Russia. Ankara was only an administrative center. But its construction came at the cost of neglecting the rest of the country and increased the cost of living for all, said the Turkish Communists. And this alienated the population. "Ankara will win true supporters for itself only when it is the center of a proletarian dictatorship," announced the émigré Communists. With some justice, they noted that the wealthy sought to escape from it to spend their money, thus the city had a nomadic appearance. Carrying this argument too far, however, in the end they concluded that "Ankara is a city that does not answer any need of the country." The Kemalist policy of protecting industry they assessed as a device to collect money from the workers and peasants for the benefit of bosses. In the Communist interpretation, industrialists used the power of the state to exploit the people, who suffer from "1) restriction of imports" by high tariffs and the creation of monopolies, "2) encouragement of exports," through a subsidy system that rebates taxes to the bosses, "3) giving preference to native goods, in government purchases, and "4) government investment in partnership with ordinary people." The latter was in no way like Communism as some alleged, for in terms of Communist class analysis, the Kemalist government exploited workers and peasants in the same way as regular commercial companies did. Finally, they claimed that the state bank was a "charlatan" organization. This "masterpiece of ismet Pasha resembles changing copper to gold by shamanism." It "created 10-15 million lira by sleight of hand yesterday by changing old money for new." 1 With heavy-handed sarcasm, the Communist writer asserted that "in these areas one must confess that our government is a first-class government." The final conclusion from this analysis was that Kemalism was responsible for wrecking Turkey's economy, a message that the Communists hoped would arouse workers and peasants. Troubles within the Communist Party received their share of attention in inkilâp Yolu. They were described as growing pains by "false Communists" who "betrayed the working class cause for the benefit of the bourgeois dictatorship." That was said to be preventing the party from becoming a "true revolutionary mass party." To alert the party ranks to this danger, the Communist International Executive Committee also published an open letter to members of the Turkish Communist Party calling on the party "to apply democratic principles inside its ranks to the degree permitted by conditions of '"This probably refers to the introduction of new currency printed in Britain in 1931.

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heavy secrecy." The Provisional Central Committee and the administrative apparatus must "create possibilities of self-criticism inside the party to assure success of party activity to protect the party from a new destructive 'White Terror' by the Kemalists and to prevent infiltration of petty bourgeois elements inside the party." The Comintern warned that this bourgeois group that attacked the Central Committee of the Turkish Communist Party under the name of "the opposition" was not a Communist group but was composed of police agents, Trotskyites, and troublemakers expelled from the party in 1927. These were alleged to be Kemalists who had insinuated themselves into the ranks of workers, but had no relation with Communism. The Comintern warned that this faction served not the workers but the bourgeoisie and feudal lords, hence Communists should cut all ties to them. 1 inkilap Yolu identified its enemies by name: Vedat Nedim [Tor], who sold to the police all the party secrets; Hamdi §amilof, who surrendered to the police; §evket Siireyya [Aydemir], who felt that the Republican Peoples Party government was sufficient for workers; Ahmet Musolini, Nazim Hikmet, and Sari Mustafa [Borkliice].2 Creation of the Free Republican Party under Fethi Okyar in August 1930 was difficult for the Communists abroad to analyze. In commenting on the maneuvering surrounding the creation of this party, inkilap Yolu saw behind the event not personalities, but economic and social factors. None of the Free Party's organization's aims and intentions that the bourgeois press described to its readers were convincing to the Communists. This "puppetry" could not conceal the "naked truth" that the Peoples Party faced two compelling pressures. First, was the pressure from imperialist capital that was not satisfied with its profits; and second, was the pressure from "the discontented masses" of the people who were upset at their extreme poverty and misery. The Kemalist plan to deal with these pressures, the external Communist leaders judged, was to conceal surrender to imperialism and buy time by throwing the masses off the scent in "Machiavellian" fashion through creating a second party. In falling in with this plan, Fethi Okyar proved "that he was one of the most disreputable and two-faced puppets of Kemalism, that is of the Ghazi, in this way." As an alternative bourgeois organization to Kemalism, the Free Party's purpose was to try to keep those workers and igginin Sesi, no. 288, Aug. 12, 1985, p. 15, reprinted these documents, including the twelfth thesis elaborated in conjunction with the party program which dealt with internal party roblems. inin Sesi, no. 291, Sept. 23, 1985, p. 15, reprinted the appeal "To Members of the Turkish Communist Party" originally published in Inkilap Yolu. In 1935, in its report to the Seventh World Wide Congress of the Communist International, it was reported that "In 1930 an effort was made by various renegade groups (liquidators, Trotskyites, provocateurs) to unite and seize the leadership of the Communist movement." But the party claimed that it "was successful rapidly in unmasking and liquidating this political provocation." See, Communist International, "Turkey," Kommunistcheskii internatsional pered VII vcemirnym Kongressom (Materialy), Moscow: Partizdat, 1935, p. 492.

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peasants who were opposed to the government in line, said the Communists. As a result, "it became an entirely counter-revolutionary, reactionary party." It was said to be even "more dangerous" than the Kemalist Party because "it had the ability to seduce many of the discontented people through demagoguery." Thus "Communists were obliged to direct the most violent attacks against this phony party which is in the process of formation." 1 In this criticism, however, inkil&p Yolu did not spare the Republican Peoples Party. The Communists judged that "the policy that the Peoples Party is preparing to follow under the guise of the Free Republican Party is more anti-revolutionary and more reactionary than the policy it had followed up to now." They added that the Kemalists were turning their "face from the revolution and liberation world to the world of tyranny and despotism, that is, to the 'League of Nations,' [a creature] of the capitalist colonialists." Hence, the Communists concluded that "the Kemalist bourgeoisie is trying openly to carry out a policy of surrender to imperialism" because such a path was dictated by its "class interests." Indeed, "there are not two separate entities called the Republican Peoples Party and the Free Republican Party." They are both the same thing and "both represent the capitalist bourgeoisie, hence they are to the same degree our enemies."

Local Leftists in Action But the Turkish Communist Party was not alone in seeking to respond to the Free Republican Party experiment. Taking advantage of the somewhat more permissive atmosphere engendered by the emergence of the Free Party, another group of leftists attempted to form the Turkish Republican Worker and Peasant Party (Turk Cumhuriyet Amele ve Cift§i Partisi). This was decidedly a fringe group of apparently extremely small size, yet it excited the authorities to move against it. Even though its statutes proclaimed that it was nationalist, at the same time it made clear that "the party aims to defend Turkish workers and peasants against capitalists and to liberate them from the hands of tyrants and userers." Architect Kazim Tahsin Bey, who filed the application for this party on September 29, 1930, was not apparently connected with the Moscowline Communist Party and indeed the new organization pledged to continue "step by step along the path" lighted by Atatiirk. It even specifically and categorically rejected both Communism and Bolshevism which it identified as "harmful to the structure of the country." That did not save its application to

' m . K . , "Muhalefet Oyununun Igyuzu," Sesi, no. 287, July 22,1985, p. 15.

inkilap Yolu, no. 1, July-Aug. 1930, reprinted in ¡.¡ginin

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be allowed to operate on the political scene from being rejected by the authorities, ostensibly because it promoted Communism.1 The Free Party Legacy The Free Party experiment was flawed from the start. It threatened to assemble primarily those who wished to undo moves toward laicism and generally to backtrack on Atatiirk's reform movement. Hence, after crowds rioted, shouting religious slogans, and cheered the Free Party in Izmir where Fethi Okyar came to give a speech to answer Inonii's Sivas address, the die was cast. Thus after the municipal elections held in the fall of 1930 across the country showed through government pressure and irregularities that the Republican Peoples Party was worried about losing its majority, Free Party leaders and Atatiirk agreed that the new party should disband in November 1930. The failure of Atatiirk's effort to create a tame opposition party without feeding the anti-reformist current ushered in a period of less dramatic experiments by the Kemalist leader. It had become transparently evident that the reforms of the legal code, calendar, alphabet, dress, and the like thus far had not captured the hearts and minds of the common people at large. Hence, the Republican leaders realized the need to prepare the ground for further reform by spreading the gospel of modern Turkish nationalism. Only by so doing could the Atatiirk revolution be safe. Accordingly, a period began with emphasis centered on popular education and on drawing the masses by gradual steps to support the reforms. In the political arena, this broadening manifested itself in moves to fuse the Republican Peoples party with the mechanism of the state. That would allow for Kemalism to be spread more effectively. At the same time, of course, the party gained in control and respect, for clothed with the dignity of the government, it became inviolate. Yet the cost of merging party and government was for the party to lose identity and the government to emerge supreme. Moreover, cliques and internal factions, which had always existed around the major figures, now began to develop rapidly. In fact, just at the time when the party-government had made itself supreme in all phases, it would find its gravest threat no longer from without but henceforth from within.

1 For its statutes, see Tungay, Türkiye Cumhuriyeti'nde TEK-PARTt YÖNETiMI'nin Kurulmasi, pp. 409-417.

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The new governmental measures did not derail underground Communist propaganda. Kizil Istanbul continued, if irregularly. At the end of 1930, for example, a Turkish Communist official writing under the name of "Mehmet" presented an explanation of why class struggle was destined to occur as long as the bourgeoisie owned the machines, raw materials, and factories used in production. The contradiction between labor and capital, Kizil Istanbul explained, created "a constant struggle between the working class and the bourgeois class." It was in the class interest of the worker to seek the highest wage possible for the least amount of work, while the interest of the bourgeoisie was to pay little and have the workers work as long and as much as possible. In standard Communist rhetoric, he wrote that "as long as factories and machines, etc., remain the property of the bourgeoisie, it is impossible to prevent" exploitation and servitude. Thus the Communist writer urged such radical solutions as "taking the means of production from the bourgeois class and giving them to the working masses." "Mehmet" judged that this expropriation could "be accomplished only be seizing the government and political power." Fortunately for the Communists, he argued, the organization of factories "creates the conditions necessary for the working class to be successful in the struggle to organize, to act in concert, and to proceed under the direction and guidance of the Communist Party leadership." Moreover, he took comfort from his belief that the need to produce goods meant that the working class could not be destroyed. From that fact, the Communists derived the comforting corollary that the Communist Party also could not be destroyed. In this situation, what was to be done, asked Kizil Istanbul rhetorically. The answer was to devote "all forces to the factory" to organize the workers.1 Elsewhere in that issue of Kizil Istanbul one writing under the name "Naci" criticized the steps taken by businesses and government enterprises to deal with the economic crisis. Complaining that cutting the work week was a tactic used by such concerns to economize, the Communist publication asserted that reducing working hours drove workers earnings below the poverty level and forced them to bear a disproportionate share of the brunt of the belttightening. "Naci" pointed out that at the same time that workers were on short pay, the Steam Ship Lines allocated the SS Ege to provide transportation to President Atatiirk at a cost of hundreds of thousands of liras. Hence the Communists concluded that "it is a truth that the working class and broad peasant masses must understand that all these sorts of things are a natural result of the domination of the bourgeoisie today and that these will be abolished only when a worker-peasant government is formed." To this end, the "working class must undertake a struggle under the flag of the Communist ^Mehmet, "Ne Yapmah," Kizil Istanbul, December 8, 1930, p. 7, as reprinted in iççinin Sesi, no. 319, Dec. 31, 1986, p. 15.

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defined this struggle as

The Communist Party External Bureau in Berlin came out with its own extensive analysis of Turkey's conditions when it appended a new preamble to its 1929 party program which for the first time now appeared in print. This document published in January 1931 under the authorship of "B.F." (presumably standing for B. Ferdi, which was Deymer's Comintern alias) although sounding a number of highly questionable notes, nonetheless elaborated several propositions that stuck a receptive chord in the Kemalist lexicon as well. The view that, because trade and industry had been in the hands of foreigners living in Turkey and their non-Turkish local agents, the country was threatened with being a sort of "semi-colony of the imperialist States" would permeate economic thinking in Turkey during Ataturk's lifetime. Kemalists agreed that the struggle for independence involved "determination to be freed from the trusteeship of and intervention by internal financial capital." And there would be no dispute by the leaders in Turkey with the conclusion that the "economic efforts undertaken by the nationalist bourgeoisie" should be directed to the "rapid growth of productive forces." Moreover, the preoccupation with the need to be vigilant in opposition to "foreign capital getting its hands on the natural resources of the country" would form a lasting tenet of Kemalist thought. While foreigners had had easy access to underground minerals under the Ottoman regime, Atatiirk and his government were readily persuaded that the government had a responsibility tightly to control mineral operations—and that was a note that the Turkish Communists sounded loud and clear. 2 Yet in contrast to these widely accepted propositions, the predominant emphasis in this review of economic and social conditions was on judgments that Atatiirk and his colleagues would utterly reject: that the Kemalists were on the path of surrendering economic independence to European imperialists. In addition, the Comintern analysis held that "efforts of the Peoples Party to reduce the working class to rabble," lacking class consciousness, were "doomed to fail." And in the Communists' usual overestimation of the powers of the workers and peasants, this analysis found that "recently the bases of the Peoples Party domination have begun to be shaken by the popular masses themselves." Even though the Ankara regime was able to suppress mass agitation by jailing its leaders, the Communists nourished the hope that the masses, who had been deprived of their livelihood by the economic policies of the Republican Peoples party government, formed a "reserve army" of the ' Naci, 'Tasarruf — A^hk," Kizil Istanbul, December 8, 1930, p. 7, as reprinted in iscinin Sesi, no. 319, Dec. 31, 1986, p. 15. For this document that attempted to set in context the Turkish Communist Party program of action, see appendix 1.

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hungry and unemployed who were "revolutionary material easily inclined to all sorts of political adventures." Indeed, the external Communist leaders asserted that if Communist propaganda had not been tardy in showing them the path of true liberation, these elements would not have contributed to Fethi Okyar's success in arousing the people behind his Free Party. And, in a slightly different interpretation than before, the Communists laid the blame for the Kurdish uprisings squarely on the shoulders of the Ankara authorities for "strangling in infancy all the hopes for independence among Kurds...by destroying all their national characteristics." To Deymer, who alleged that "the Kemalist government's minority policy was more oppressive and reactionary than was that of previous administrations," it was clear that "the practical result of this myopic counter-revolutionary policy" was to stimulate "movements directed to weaken and destroy the existing administration." Yet the Communists opined that in the final analysis reactionary forces, including the religious establishment, were just puppets used by the imperialists to bring Turkey to its knees. The main danger, they believed, came from international finance capital which in 1928 had succeeded in gaining acceptance from Turkey of its responsibility for the major part of the Ottoman debt. In their appraisal of events in the spring of 1931, the Comintern leaders and the Turkish External Bureau reflected the prevailing Stalinist view of the world. The Eleventh Plenum of the Executive Committee of the Communist International in March-April 1931 proclaimed that the principal task of all Communist parties was "to win the majority of the working class as an essential condition for victory over the bourgeoisie and for preparing the working class for the decisive battles for the dictatorship of the proletariat." The Plenum directed Communist Parties to woo the masses by (1) resisting wage cuts and mass dismissals, while agitating for higher wages, demanding social insurance at the expense of the employers, and insisting on immediate relief for the unemployed; (2) organizing mass political strikes against bourgeois dictatorships; and (3) working against the preparations for imperialist war and anti-Soviet military intervention. Moreover, from now on, at Moscow's direction the Comintern would increasingly focus on the possibility of war against the Soviet Union which it saw likely to be fomented by the imperialist powers of Europe.1

Report to the Comintern Despite this bow in the Comintern's direction, in his report to the Eleventh Plenum of the Executive Committee of the Communist International ^Communist International, Eleventh Plenum of the E.C.C.I. Theses, Resolutions. Decisions (Moscow: Partinoe izdatel'stvo, 1931), p. 18-20.

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in April 1931, §efik Hiisnii Deymer took issue with the general Comintern view that the world economic depression had turned the peasantry of the underdeveloped world into tinder ready to ignite. Although he did not completely reject the possibility of an early peasant explosion, Deymer strongly deflated expectations that the native bourgeois elements could lead the peasants in a revolutionary direction. He cautioned that Turkey's experience in conducting a national liberation struggle against Western capitalists "cannot be repeated." What was now needed was for the Turkish Communist Party to take power, but he excused its failure to do so on the grounds that it had been newly organized and "the Communist International had not yet taken firmly in its hands the leadership of the world proletarian movement." In the present changed situation, he believed—in line with Comintern prescriptions—that it was clearly incumbent on the international Communist movement to see to it that Communist parties "did not repeat the passivity of the earlier Turkish experience."1 Nonetheless, Deymer was not completely at one with all of Ediz's diagnoses of the Turkish domestic scene. In contrast to the line of Kizil Istanbul, which stressed the anti-feudal nature of unrest in the Kurdish area of Turkey, Deymer presented to the Eleventh Plenum a lengthy, convoluted argument interpreting the Kurdish revolt of 1930 as a regressive struggle. To be sure, he acknowledged that the Kurdish stirrings in Turkey had the potential to become a "revolutionary" contest against Kemalist oppression. He repeated the usual charge that the Kurds were administered as a "sort of colony, completely separate from the rest of the country." But he explained that this region was so inaccessible to the Turkish Communists that the party could not send its personnel to try to induce the discontented peasants to direct their struggle against their feudal lords as well as against the Kemalist authorities. As a result, in Deymer's view, the Kurdish uprising had been subverted by the feudal leaders and served only the interests of British imperialism. Hence, to Deymer the Kurdish revolt remained a movement of "a very reactionary, counterrevolutionary character."2 Deymer also gave new nuances to the interpretation of the Free Party experiment in his speech to the Eleventh Plenum. He saw the same economic privation which triggered Kurdish discontent lying behind the malaise that led Atatiirk to sanction the Free Party. Indeed, Deymer suggested that the Kemalists had permitted the formation of an opposition merely as a device to "pacify" to a degree the anger of the masses. Misinterpreting completely the free-market, liberalist outlook of the popular move toward the Free Party, ^Communist International, Kompartii i Krizis Kapitalizma (Moscow: Partiinoe izdatel'stvo, 1932), pp. 522-28, speech of Ferdi (Turkey) at the 16th session of the Eleventh Plenum of the Comintern Executive. 2 Ibid.

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Deymer claimed that pressure from the masses had forced the Free Party "to give in" and to "pretend that it was in agreement with a series of slogans of [Communist] revolutionaries f o r the benefit of the peasant and worker population." It was for this reason, Deymer asserted that Ataturk soon acted to close the new opposition party in November 1930 and turned on the Turkish Communists as well. Differences in diagnosis with the Communists inside of Turkey, however, were only a part of Deymer's message to the Plenum. He admitted that the Communist Party had not performed impressively on the Turkish scene in recent years. Rather than recognizing that inability to compete with Atatiirk's charismatic nationalism lay at the root of the Communist Party's problems, however, Deymer instead—along Comintern lines—attributed the party's difficulties primarily to over-centralization, lack of local initiative, and an "opportunistic and Trotskyite opposition." To overcome these problems, he proposed that the organization undertake six highly militant tasks: • • • • • •

First, to organize cells in existing worker unions to try to transform them into revolutionary organizations; Second, to organize "factory committees" to lay the foundation for the eventual creation of Communist unions; Third, to orchestrate and lead strikes; Fourth, to "draw workers into street demonstrations;" Fifth, to infiltrate Communists into the peasants and national minorities; and Sixth, to "break up ruthlessly all opposition" in the party to Comintern decisions.

Recognizing that these were difficult assignments, certain to elicit strong governmental opposition, he unrealistically expressed conviction that the Communist Party would nonetheless succeed in organizing the masses to "prevent Turkey from entering the ranks of the anti-Soviet front." And with remarkable bravado he boasted that if the Kemalists should "try to betray" this desire for friendly relations with the USSR, "the workers and peasants under the leadership of the Communist Party" would overthrow the regime and "seize power directly." In this he was reflecting the new Comintern line that there was now no difference between fascism and bourgeois democracy, a position that would be abandoned by the international Communist movement a few years later after Hitler consolidated power in Germany and showed the dangers of the true face of fascism.

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Communist Electoral Gambit Inside Turkey, however, Hasan Ali Ediz and his associates took a different tack. They decided to offer their adherents a chance to bring Communists into the Grand National Assembly. Elections had been set for April 24, 1931, under rules that seemed to offer the Communists a chance to gain some representation. Following the debacle of the Free Party, Atatiirk had directed that in the 1931 elections thirty seats in the 317-man parliament (women were still ineligible to vote or be elected) were to be allocated to independent individuals whom the people would choose in freedom. To allow independents a chance of election, Republican Peoples Party candidates were not designated to run for a few seats in Istanbul, Izmir and twenty other provinces in the more developed parts of Turkey. To exploit this opportunity, Ediz disregarded the Comintern urging for radical measures and instead proclaimed that the Communist Party would take part in the existing political order by running for parliamentary seats.1 An election manifesto was issued in the spring of 1931 in the name of the Central Committee of the Turkish Communist Party. The party urged all workers not to vote for Republican Peoples Party candidates who it alleged were seeking to "pass on to an open bourgeois dictatorship." Instead, the Central Committee appealed for them to vote for ten party members including Dr. Hikmet [Kivilcimh], "Trotsky" Mehmet, Ediz himself, Laz Ismail [Bilen], Mehmet Emin [Sekiin], Re§at Fuat [Baraner], and Niko, despite the fact that these figures themselves were in jail where they had been since their arrests in 1929.2 But in the same declaration, the Central Committee appealed in connection with the usual May 1 Communist celebration for workers to demonstrate for: • raising salaries and shortening hours; • giving work to the unemployed; • instituting an eight-hour work day • providing freedom of the press and freeing of jailed Communists; • giving land without cost to landless peasants • electing true worker representative to parliament; • taxing the wealthy and canceling debts of the poor to usurers and imperialist institutions; and • establishing a comprehensive political and economic alliance with Soviet Russia. 3

' i KP Merkez Komitesi, "Intihap ve 1 Mayis Beyannamesi," 1931, reprinted in iscinin Sesi, no. 234, May 16,1983, p. 13. "ibid. Had they actually been elected, these ten party members would theoretically have been eligible for release from prison because they would have enjoyed parliamentary immunity! 3 Ibid.

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These demands fell far short of demanding a revolution against the Kemalist regime. Yet they were accompanied by language that went out of its way to alienate Ankara. The election manifesto highlighted Communist insistence that "the Turkish bourgeoisie is about to pass to the attack on all fronts against workers, peasants, and poor people" after the elections. It spoke of "many rights being taken away" and it anticipated that "an extraordinary sharpening of fascist methods, naked bourgeois dictatorship, and toadying to imperialists will be the results of the next election." The manifesto went on to accuse "the reactionary fascist dictatorship" of preparing "to complete the work of betrayal of the national revolution." And the document flatly predicted that "the blood of working people and of the country" would be shed "for the sake of imperialists in the war which is near." It made clear that it meant that "a new world war, an imperialist war against Russia, the fatherland of the worker, is fast approaching."1 Pursuing this theme, just a few days before the election in April 1931 the Istanbul Communists sharpened their message of criticism of the Kemalists for propitiating the bourgeoisie and "usurious" commercial capitalists through fascistic methods and for going "to open dictatorship." The Communists especially condemned the government for intensifying terror against workers by means of oppressive laws. Charging that the Kemalists were leading the country to war against the Soviet Union "for the sake of the imperialists," Kizil Istanbul basically repudiated its election strategy by complaining that "it is basically vain for workers to expect any decision on their behalf from the bourgeois Parliament." In this situation, the Communists warned that the "salvation of the working people" can be assured "only by seizing power themselves in their own name, under the leadership of the Communist Party to set up a Soviet-style government."2 This change of heart may have reflected an inability of the Communist candidates to register their candidacy and make good on their effort to run for election. In fact, had they been able to promote their candidacies, they might have been able to take advantage of the confused electoral scene to be elected. In the event, it turned out that the independent seats were such an innovation that they were not hotly contested. In a third of the seats designated for independents no candidate received even one vote. Moreover, it was subsequently reported that the authorities, who were worried that former members of the banned Progressive Republican Party might win seats, took pains to see that no undesirables ended up in parliament.3 ilbid. 2

Ahmet, "Intihabat ve Emek?iler," Kizil Istanbul, Apr. 20, 1931, pp. 1-2, as reprinted in ¡¡ginin Sesi, no. 239, Aug. 1,1983, p. 16. 3The Times (London), Apr. 23, 1931; New York Times, Apr. 25, 1931; Frederick W. Frey, The Turkish Political Elite (Cambridge, MA: The M.I.T. Press, 1965), p. 434, n. 24.

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It was in this atmosphere that the efforts of Ediz to run the party from jail only added to the disruption of its organization. He was apparently obliged to bypass the normal chain of command in order to minimize the chances for detection of his attempts. While some younger labor agitators came into the party at this time as did some students, the depths of suspicion in the wake of Ediz's purge hampered all party activity. And the authorities soon clamped down on Ediz, adding an additional jail time to his original sentence for his jail house activities. 1

The Laic Republican Worker and Peasant Party Elections did not still signs of political opposition. Former members of Okyar's party remained all over the country as an embarrassing legacy of the unfortunate episode. Yarin continued to publish its hostile articles; indeed in June 1931 Arif Oru§ even attempted to form another leftist party, the Laic Republican Worker and Peasant Party, 2 to defend the interests of "head and hand" workers. These were defined as intellectuals and civil servants on the one hand, and farmers, laborers, and small artisans on the other. The proposed party demanded human rights for all. It called for abolishing direct taxes in favor of indirect ones to meet government expenses. No Turk over age 19 should remain unemployed. Orug's program declared that the Turkish economy rested on four elements; the élite, farmers, workers, and petty artisans. The élite, except for civil servants, could not join unions. Peasants would be organized in cooperatives, but would have the right to own land up to limited amounts. As for workers, they would share in industrial rights and privileges along with capitalists. Foreign individual capital would be permitted, but workers health and working conditions would be guaranteed. At the same time, by demanding that the president be limited to one three-year term, Oru§ guaranteed that Ataturk would have to move against the party. And so it was. The authorities rejected the party's application to go into operation, although the proposed organization did not have any direct relationship with the Communist Party. For the government, it was enough that Oru§ obviously sought to appeal to the same strata of society as did the Turkish Communist Party.

' Sayilgan, Solun 94 Yili, pp. 198-204. ^The program of the Layik Cumhuriycti^i Ì55Ì ve (Tiftji Firkasi was published in Yarin, June 22, 1931. It is reproduced in Tun9ay, Turkiye Cumhuriyeti'nde TEK-PARTÌ YONETÌMÌnin Kurulmasi, pp. 418-428.

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Atatiirk Responds Amid this ferment, Atatiirk saw need to codify in more extensive form the basic tenets of the Republican Peoples Party. Under his direction, the program elaborated for the Third Party Congress in May 1931 enshrined for the first time the famous six principles of Kemalism: republicanism, nationalism, populism, etatism, laicism, and revolutionarism. The principle of etatism had been in the minds of Republican Peoples Party leaders for some time, but the notion that the government should control the commanding heights of the economy began to make itself felt in practice for the first time after the Party Congress. The country had not shown any recovery from the doldrums of the depression. Even with protective tariffs instituted in 1929, private enterprise did not seem able to meet the needs of the country. At the same time, the Republicans resolved to carry these principles directly to the populace throughout the country. For that purpose, the Turkish Hearth Association, long the fountainhead of Turkish culture and propaganda was abolished and its property turned over to the party. In its place, new cultural institutions, the People's Houses, were created to spread the Kemalist screed to the masses. Conceived on a broad scale, the People's Houses were to serve as the centers of social life for all citizens of the Turkish Republic. With the upsurge of leftist criticism, the Kemalist government saw need to tighten its control. The authorities apparently were concerned lest Communist propaganda succeed in "tampering with the discipline of the Army and Civil Service." To cope with this challenge, parliament passed a new press law on July 25, 1931, restricting the profession of journalism to university graduates with clean records and specifically forbade Communist or anarchist propaganda.1 Fourth Congress of the Turkish Communist Party The failure of the Turkish Communists who had remained on the ground in Turkey to carry out the provocative policy Deymer espoused and the obvious internal disarray in the Turkish Communist Party led its leaders to convene what has passed into Turkish Communist party history as the Fourth Party Congress. This gathering, which was scheduled to meet on February 10, 1932, may actually have been held a few days early to foil the police whom it was feared had been informed about the gathering. Indeed, this Congress may even have been held abroad. Wherever it may have been assembled, the 'The Press Law was passed through an extraordinary session of parliament convened to deal with the threat on July 25, 1931. See The Times (London), Apr. 24, 1931 and July 30, 1931.

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Comintern bragged that 25 delegates representing seven local organizations took part in the proceedings. The Congress reviewed the political and organizational tasks of the party, urged greater activity to prepare for what was expected to be a coming "war" with the imperialists, and elected a new Central Committee for the party, reflecting the purges and counterpurges the organization had suffered. This Central Committee had an authorized strength of 30 in order to make room for those members still in prison. It ordered Ediz and Kivilcimh, among others, expelled from the party for their part in creating factional difficulties Allegedly Aydemir and Sadrettin Celâl Antel were invited to come to defend themselves, but refused as they no longer considered themselves members of the Communist Party. 1 Nonetheless, the Congress did not significantly reduce dissent within the party. The Comintern continued to portray the Turkish Communist movement as upset by the machinations of "petty-bourgeois renegades," as well as "liquidators," and "Trotskyites." And all through the 1930s Deymer would see the need to purge enemies or possible rivals within the party. As a result, the Comintern found that the party was "still not sufficiently linked to the broad masses of workers." It was judged deficient in union organizational work, in organizing a youth movement, and in taking part in strikes. 2 It was in this troubled situation of the Communist movement that the émigré leaders learned of the appearance of a new theoretical journal, Kadro, published in Turkey by a group of former party members. These exCommunists, including Aydemir, Tor, and others of their group, began circulating the first issue of their journal in Turkey on January 23, 1932. Copies would thus have been available to the Communist leadership abroad at about the time of the Fourth Congress of the Turkish Communist Party. And to these Communist émigrés the emergence of this new publishing venture must have seemed both a confirmation of the parlous state of their party and a challenge to Communist orthodoxy.

Top§uoglu, pp. 138-41, who records Mustafa Borkliice's account. Borkliice calls this the "Third" Congress, apparently disregarding the 1926 Congress. The correct numbering and other details are in Communist International, "Turtsiia," Kommunisticheskii lnternatsional pered VII Vsemirnym Kongressom (Moscow: Partizdat TsK VKP(b), 1935), p. 4 9 M 9 3 . 2 F., 'The Fresh Wave of Persecutions...", p. 690.

CHAPTER V: Kadro

The emergence of the group which came together to publish Kadro represented more than the process of challenge and response within the Communist movement. It also reflected the broader evolution of Kemalism in Turkey. By the mid-1920s, Atatiirk's reform effort was picking up steam. In this endeavor, the mobilization of all shades of nationalist opinion was essential. Atatiirk at this time thus inaugurated a policy of wooing intellectual dissidents by a measured alteration of carrot and stick. For the Turkish Communists, political amnesty for those in jail was followed by the offer of substantial positions in the service of the new state, provided only that the erstwhile dissidents abandon their links to the international Communist movement. Ankara's inclusive policy had a powerful impact on the future founders of Kadro, who began to assemble in Ankara toward the end of the 1920s. By 1928, §evket Siireyya Aydemir had accepted the post of head of the Commercial Academy in the capital. As 1930 opened, Vedat Nedim Tor became the first adviser to the National Economy and Savings Society, which Atatiirk intended as an important institution to combat the ravages of the Great Depression then rapidly sweeping over the world in general and Turkey in particular. Burhan Beige, a journalist who involvement in Communist activity had evidently been considerably less intense, also had broken with Deymer's party by the mid-1920s. They were joined by Ismail Hiisrev Tokin, an economist who had gone to Moscow in 1922 to study at the University of the Toilers of the East before switching to Moscow University where the study of economics seemed more professional. On his return to Turkey in 1926, Tokin refused Tor's invitation to join the Turkish Communist Party on the grounds that the party could not withstand government pressure. But he evidently did not inform the police and maintained an affinity for Tor in particular, with whom he had a continuing association as the representative of a German commercial firm. 1 Although all these figures had by now withdrawn, or had been expelled, from the Communist movement, their past experience had stimulated in them a pronounced interest in formal ideology. They appreciated the fact that rigid Communist doctrine along Stalinist lines was inappropriate to the Turkish ^Interview with Ismail Hiisrev Tokin, Dec. 20, 1969; Harris, The Origins of Communism in Turkey, pp. 141 ff.

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situation. But nonetheless, they were prepared to believe that it was not only possible, but essential, for Turkey to give its revolution direction and to promote a "scientific approach" to the development of Turkey's national economy. They recognized that up to that time, Atatiirk had not devoted attention to elaborating a revolutionary creed for his country. Aydemir, indeed, was clearly seeking a vehicle to become the chief ideologist of the Atatiirk revolution. And the initiative for the Kad.ro venture was indisputably his. Their past brought these four into natural contact. They explicitly recognized that their interests required a disciplined effort to codify the dogma of the Turkish revolution. Moreover, Aydemir, Tor, and Tokin were particularly used to the discipline of working as a team. To carry out their purpose, therefore, the four met and elaborated position papers that were then debated among themselves. But their aim clearly necessitated much more farreaching activity. 1 The most immediate task was to find a patron to help carry the message to the upper ranks of the Republican Peoples Party. Politics in Turkey's oneparty era was almost entirely personal. Jockeying for position was the main preoccupation of political figures in this period; to get the ear of the top leadership cadre was the only effective way to achieve status. It was also the only sure means to gain protection from one's enemies. That was particularly important for the nascent group because it was clear from the start that the endeavor to elaborate an extensive ideology for the Republican Peoples Party would generate strong opposition. The ranks of the Kemalists at large included people of many rather different political persuasions. Saffet A n k a n was apparently the first important figure to become involved with the Kadroists. As Secretary General of the Republican Peoples Party (1925-1931) and as a close friend of both Prime Minister Ismet Inonii and President Atatiirk, he was especially well placed to defend the former Communists and to advance their interests. In his role of "political trouble shooter," Ankan asked §evket Sureyya Aydemir soon after the latter appeared on the Ankara scene to provide a series of reports on ways to make the Republican Peoples Party a more effective organization. Indeed, this request may have provided a welcome frame for the ideas that would sprout into the Kadro movement. 2

^Interview with §evket Sureyya Aydemir, Dec. 16, 1969. Ibid. For Arikan's general political role, see also Fay Kirby Berkes, "The Village Institute Movement of Turkey: An Educational Mobilization for Social Change," Ph.D. thesis presented to Teachers College, Columbia University, 1960, p. 203. 2

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Former Communist Ahmet Cevat Emre, who by this time had insinuated himself into Atatiirk's personal entourage as an adviser on linguistic reform, was another natural conduit to the corridors of power in Ankara. Aydemir made use of his long-standing connections with Emre to promote his new interest. Another contact that Aydemir tried to use was Atatiirk's revolutionary comrade and confidant Vasif £inar, who was in Ankara between diplomatic assignments at the end of the 1920s. Aydemir even had a spirited exchange with Recep Peker who would take over as Secretary General of the Republican Peoples Party in 1931. Peker, however, would not prove sympathetic to efforts outside his control to elaborate a philosophy of Kemalism. Finally, Aydemir approached Ahmet Agaoglu and Hamdullah Suphi Tanriover from the Turkish Hearth (Tiirkocagi) Association, the nationalist propaganda institution that the future Kadro members hoped to use publicly to launch their new movement. But while these Kemalist luminaries were useful eventually in helping to refine the Kadro message and later in getting the necessary permit for a monthly publication, they were not fully committed to the ideological aspirations of the emerging Kadroists. Nor was their support, in any event, sufficient to achieve the aim of the nascent group to formulate an ideology that would commend itself to the leaders of the Republican Peoples Party. 1 To enlarge their activity, therefore, the four future Kadro founders got in touch with Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu, Beige's brother-in-law. Karaosmanoglu was a writer who had come to Atatiirk's attention during the struggle for independence as the first major journalist in Istanbul to shift to the nationalist cause. From his subsequent service as a publicist for the new regime, he was considered thoroughly loyal to the Kemalist leadership. Karaosmanoglu had shown an interest in reform in his writings all through the 1920s. He now read some of the position papers that the group was circulating privately and liked what he read. He agreed that this work should have wider distribution. Falling in with the expectations of the former Communists, he thus offered to publish a journal reflecting the group's ideas. While he undoubtedly sympathized with the ideological approach of the four, however, he may have seen the possibility of the new journal as a way to promote his own status in the ruling party. But subsequently, in describing his part in the Kadro movement, he claimed that Ataturk had designated him to watch over the ex-Communists to see that their writings and activities were proper and within the bounds of the Ataturk revolution. 2

1 Interview with §evket Sureyya Aydemir, Dec. 16, 1969; see also his "Kadro Hareketi: Inkilap Yuriiyor...," Milliyet, Nov. 12, 1970, p. 5.

^Interview with Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu, Dec. 17, 1969. Apparently Karaosmanoglu was seconded in Atatiirk's inner circle by Falih Rifki Atay, another prominent journalist w h o also helped run interference for the new movement.

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The Intellectual Climate The time for a venture to elaborate an ideology for Kemalism was particularly apt. Debate over the nature of the revolution had been going on since even before the declaration of the republic in 1923. With Atatiirk's continuing reform moves, it was clear to the Turkish intellectual élite that Turkey's revolutionary élan had not been exhausted and that Atatiirk could lead on new paths at any moment. For example, as early as August 1927, Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu was describing Kemalism as the embodiment of "Turkish revolutionary spirit," and noted that "to make this conception a rule of moral discipline, to teach it and spread it, that is the great ideal that Turkish youth must follow." Moreover, even later opponents of the Kadro movement, like Siirt deputy Mahmud Soydan, were writing in 1927 that "the Turkish nation does not believe it has accomplished its task from the social point of view." Particularly with the coming of the Great Depression, much interest was expressed in the relative merits of fascism and Communism. And the topic of the life of the Turkish revolution and the need to serve it were constant themes in the press at the end of the 1920s. M. Zekariya Sertel wrote in Son Posta toward the end of December 1930 that "We must complete our Revolution;" Western countries still look down on Turkey because "we have not yet assimilated" our modernized course. 1 Given this interest, it was not surprising, therefore, that "revolutionism" as a vague and undefined principle was enshrined in the program of the Republican Peoples Party in 1931 as one of the six essential characteristics of the party.2 The idea of social reform was complemented by growing attention to remaking the economy. This concern was to flower in 1931 in the addition of the principle of étatism to the list of party attributes. To be sure, the origins of the movement toward state-directed economic development go back at least to the Young Turk era, when Alexander Helphand (Parvus) wrote of the need for a nationalist economic policy to combat imperialism. Although Turkey was unquestionably managed on liberal economic principles all through the 1920s, Atatiirk himself in his speech inaugurating the third year of the Grand National Assembly on March 1, 1922, in discussing his views of the economic situation committed the Cabinet to "run our general economic activity according to a plan." Moreover, observers in the American Embassy in Turkey, for example, were already describing the Turkish economy as "étatist" as early as 1925, probably because of the prevalent tendency among the Turkish élite to look to the government for economic solutions. A Supreme Economic Congress to discuss economic policy was established in ^M. Zekariya [Sertel], "Inkilâbimizi Tamamlamaliyiz," Son Posta, Dec. 26, 1930. See especially Milliyet, July 29, Aug. 20, 1927, Oct. 19, 1929, editorials by Mahmud (Soydan), Yakup Kadri (Karaosmanoglu), and Zeki Mesut; also Mahmoud (Soydan), "Autour des Réformes," L'Echo de Turquie, Dec. 8, 1926. 2

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1927, followed by the creation of a separate Ministry of Economics the following year. Prime Minister Ìstnet Ìnònii, however, gave the first concrete indication that his government's policy would call for a massive active role for the state in economic affairs in his speech on March 1, 1928, opening the Supreme Economic Congress. In this address, he pointed to the unity of the economy and the state as a guiding principle for the government, emphasizing that each was complementary of the other.1 It was the Great Depression of 1929, however, that set the Turks unmistakably on the road to modest experimentation with a planned economy. Turkey was particularly vulnerable to the rapid decline in economic activity around the world. The value of Turkish currency fell abruptly as the market for Turkish goods—which were predominantly raw materials—disappeared. As a result, the flow of imports dried up immediately. These imports had provided consumer goods for the élite, since Turkish industry was still largely lacking. Thus the crisis bore most heavily on those with the highest standard of living, while the peasantry in the countryside depended little on imported items. In this situation, the decline in trade almost at once became a major topic in the Turkish press and a main ingredient in the political contest. The drying up of foreign trade naturally pointed debate toward the need to fall back on Turkey's own capabilities and to promote economic rationalization in order to reduce the waste of resources. From this argumentation it was only a short leap to the conclusion that the most effective available means to surmount the economic challenge was to encourage savings. To carry out this policy, Atatiirk ordered a National Economy and Savings Society to be set up and, to give it suitable prestige, joined it as its first official member on January 1, 1930. Interest in developing a rigorous and comprehensive economic program emerged from this experience. As early as February 1930, the future Kadroists were actively raising the issue of central planning, but they did so as individuals and not ostensibly as a group. Karaosmanoglu, for one, took the lead in demanding that the government introduce a well-worked out and elaborate economic program. He charged that serious losses had come from the lack of a comprehensive design. By mid-1930, Vedat Nedim Tor was calling specifically for a "plan" for the economy, with public and private capital "harnessed in tandem" to carry it out.2

T.B.M.M., Zabit Çeridesi, vol. 18, p. 6 (session of March 1, 1922). [ïsmet ïnonil], îsmet Paça'nin Siyasi ve Îçtimai Nutuklari, 1920-1933 (Ankara: Ba§vekalet Matbaasi, 1933), pp. 17985. fy Yakup Kadri (Karaosmanoglu), "Programme Economique," Le Milliett, Feb. 18, 1930; V. N. (Tör), "Un Nouveau Facteur de Progrès: La Rationalisation," Le Milliett, June 3, 1930, and his "Economie Rationelle," Le Milliett, May 28, 1930.

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The debate, however, was not all one-sided. The defenders of the liberal economic system weighed in, but carefully avoiding criticism of government actions. Typical of their argument was the article of Necmeddin Sadak in Akgam in February 1930. He held that to systematize economic functions was impossible as the economy was a "problem of individual conduct." He made clear his belief that "economic and financial questions are beyond the scope of government laws and orders."1 Ideology and the Free Party The creation of the Free Party intensified the attention to economic philosophy. The two parties differed in their economic views. The growth of state monopolies which many viewed as badly run formed one of the main bases of contention. The Free Party immediately espoused liberalism as its cardinal principle and principal distinguishing feature. Article 5 of its program stated categorically that the "Party does not accept interference into the wellbeing of citizens by the government, for that is a hindrance to all financial and economic enterprise. Private enterprise of all sorts is essential to the development of the economic life of the country." According to the party, where the economic strength of individuals did not suffice for economic works that had to be done for the good of the Republic, the State could act directly, however. 2 At the same time, the new party paid considerable attention to the issue of stabilizing the value of Turkish currency in international markets. The Free Party leader called for the introduction on a wide scale of foreign capital to stimulate private enterprise. In the political field, the opposition agitated for a system of direct elections to replace the two-stage method which heavily favored the party in power. Also the Free Party attacked the administration of justice and came out strongly for protection of the rights of minorities, points in which its leaders echoed Turkish Communist positions. Indeed, from its program and the various declarations made by its leaders, the Free Republican Party seemed to be striving to gather in all the possible opposition groupings to reflect all the discontent in the country; The Republican Peoples Party, while it had a wing that favored a somewhat more liberal approach to a mixed economy, in the main continued more strongly than ever to advocate the broad state involvement in social affairs that tsmet Inonii had earlier foreshadowed. At the inauguration of the l

Ak§am, Feb. 5,1930. Tarik Zafer Tunaya, Turkiye'de Siyasi Partiler (Istanbul, Dogan Kardeg Basimevi, 1952), pp.633-34.

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Sivas rail line in August 1930, Inonii specifically indicated that Turkey's economic policy would be "moderate" etatist, noting that the people could not understand "the principles of liberalism," but looked to the state for economic development inasmuch as it was not possible to trust the "capitalists."1 The end of the Free Party experiment did not mean the end of questioning of what etatism should mean. Former party members did not abandon their belief in a liberal economic approach or a more pluralist path to political conduct. And as individuals they continued to represent a current of opposition to those associated with Prime Minister Inonii's wing of the Republican Peoples Party. The demise of the Free Republican Party, followed almost immediately by an outburst of religious reaction led by a Nakshibandi divine near Izmir in December 1930, gave new direction to the intellectual debate. Pluralist democracy, especially as practiced in the West, was seen by many as unable to meet contemporary political and especially economic challenges. The apparent ability of the Communist regime in Soviet Russia and the fascist government in Mussolini's Italy to withstand the shocks besetting other states during the depression prompted attention to their recipes for success. Many Turkish commentators, including the future Kadroists, thus urged renewed dedication to implanting the Atatiirk revolution. In a response typical of the times, for example, Karaosmanoglu argued that the Republican Peoples Party must act like a revolutionary organization, not a political party depending on class interests. And he suggested that Turkey had much to learn from Italy and Russia before making needed reforms in the Republican Peoples Party.2 The Kadroists Emerge Kadro as a publicly identified movement dates from this same period. After preliminary soundings with the other members of the group, §evket Slireyya Aydemir exposed their general ideological approach at a public lecture delivered at the Turkish Hearth Association in Ankara in January 1931. This Turkist cultural institution, which was on the verge of being reorganized as the Peoples Houses to become a subsidiary of the Republican Peoples Party for nationalist and social propaganda, lent an aura of legitimacy and official sponsorship to Aydemir's presentation. And his talk became the centerpiece for a full-blown intellectual debate, which added impetus to the crystallization of ideological currents within the Republican Peoples Party. 1

ismet Paja'mn Siyasi ve igtimai Nutuklan, 1920-1933, pp. 292-327, especially pp. 314-15. Yakup Kadri (Karaosmanoglu), "C.H.F.," Milliyet, Nov. 30, 1930, Dec. 1, 1930; Falih Rifki (Atay) wrote on a similar theme in Milliyet, Jan. 3, 1931.

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Aydemir's thesis revolved around the following eight-point analysis of Turkey's situation as the archetype of a semi-colonialized state, pitted in struggle against the developed metropoles: • • •

• • • • •

First, Turkey was the quintessential model of a national liberation movement. Second, this fact imparted an international aspect of solidarity between all such national independence movements. Third, the Turkish revolution contained all the ideological elements for a general ideology for all national liberation movements, but needed to have these identified, codified, and reduced to slogans to accord them permanence. Fourth, the duty of revolutionaries was to pass on this understanding to the new generation in order to give it direction. Fifth, the revolution required the accumulation of national capital to use in creating an industrial sector. Sixth, revolution was the ability to make society leap from one state to another and not merely administrative or passive reform. Seventh, the revolutionary order was not democracy, although Turkey might be heading toward eventual democracy. Eighth, in short, Turkey's revolution was not the satellite or copy of any existing movement, but an independent and original event, an innovation for humanity. The duty of revolutionaries was to define and explain the dimensions of the revolution.1

Aydemir followed up this presentation by sending a letter to Secretary General Recep Peker to try to reassure him, albeit unsuccessfully, that the Kadroists were not trying to create a new current to split the Republican Peoples Party, but were merely trying to encourage debate over some ideas concerning the party's principles. Then, setting to work with his colleagues to flesh out the views expressed in his Turkish Hearth lecture, he produced 20 copies of an expanded draft. The first copy was presented to President Atatiirk, another to Prime Minister Ismet inonti, and others to prominent leaders of the Turkish Hearth. Still others were sent to professors and journalists for their reaction. And Aydemir followed up by publishing a book on Turkey in the World Economy [Cihan iktisadiyatinda Tiirkiye] in 1931 in which he set forth his views on national-liberation movements describing Turkey as "pasing through the most characteristic course" of such movements and forming the "most comprehensive example."2

1 Aydemir restated his analysis for the general public in his article, "Inkilabin Ideolojisi," Hahimiyeti Milliye, Jan. 23, 1931. 2 §evket Siireyya [Aydemir], "Kadro Hareketi: CHP Parsalamyormu?," Milliyet, Nov. 14, 1970, p. 5; his Cihan iktisadiyatinda Tiirkiye (Ankara: Hakimiyeti Matbaasi, 1931), p. 3.

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The elaboration of these ideas, foreshadowing the general framework and goals of the Kadro movement, triggered immediate response. Neget Halil Atay, speaking in a manner representative of the more traditionalist wing of the Republican Peoples Party, zeroed in on the allegation that Turkey's revolutionary political system was not a democracy. He rejected the claim that democracy was an outmoded form, arguing on the contrary that a representative system provided the most effective expression of national sovereignty. Only when nations followed democratic paths, in his view, could they hope to attain prosperity and resolve their problems. He voiced sadness that Aydemir could speak of the ideology of the Turkish revolution without believing in democracy. Atay at this stage rejected the remainder of the Kadroist analysis as original but unconvincing, and particularly stressed the personal contribution of Atattirk as the generator of the Turkish revolution.1 The battle lines against the Kadroist prescription were not clearly drawn at first. The need for revolutionary propaganda was widely accepted. Even Mahmud Soydan, who would emerge later as Kadro's chief critic in the Republican Peoples Party, seconded the call to publicize the ideology of revolutionary Turkey. Appealing to the need for a doctrine of revolution comparable to the Shariat of Islam used by religious reactionaries to oppose Kemalism, Soydan suggested drawing on "the Russian and Italian examples" in courses on the Turkish revolution in the Peoples Houses, directed especially at youth.2 In the same vein, Soydan defended the emerging catch phrase of "étatism" which Atatürk inserted into the Republican Peoples Party program in 1931. While Soydan saw nothing incompatible in accepting foreign loans and capital to help develop Turkey "from one end to the other," he did make clear that these would have to come "without invoking the least political influence." And he approved the assigning of priorities to tasks as a practical way to secure national development. Moreover, he recognized that "today it is especially in the economic field that the Republican Peoples Party must work."3 Atatürk himself contributed significantly to the debate. He directly confronted the charge that the Republican Peoples Party had no detailed and elaborate program of action by issuing an extensive new party program in May 1931. It was at this party congress that the six principles of Republican doctrine (republicanism, nationalism, populism, étatism, laicism, and revolutionarism) were incorporated into the party program for the first time. 3

Ne§et Haiil (Atay), "Demokrasi rejimi," Hakimiyeti Milliye, Jan. 18,1931 Mahmud (Soydan), "Le Besoin d'idéal," Le Milliett, Feb. 15, 1931. ^Mahmoud (Soydan), 'Toujours la même mentalité," Le Milliett, Jan. 25, 1931. 2

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At the same time, the Republicans resolved to carry these principles directly to the populace throughout the country. For that purpose, the Turkish Hearth Association, long the fountain head of Turkist culture and propaganda, was abolished and its property was turned over to the Republican Peoples Party. In its place, new cultural institutions, the People's Houses, were created to spread the Kemalist creed to the masses. He also pointed the party at emphasizing youth work through this revitalized organization. As one of his chief confidants, Falih Rifki Atay, explained: "The Republican Peoples Party is a revolutionary party of the Left. It cannot run the risk of...leaving elements of the Left in institutions outside of it." Atatiirk, indeed, announced a program calling for a system reminiscent of the corporate state characteristic of fascism. He specifically hoped to deny the concept of the nation as an entity "composed of classes." By his party's new formulation, the idea of class struggle in Turkey was formally rejected.1 With the proclamation of etatism as a party principle, the debate over the nature of the revolution took a clearer direction. It became focused on the interpretation of the new party principle. And the future Kadroists became increasingly comprehensive in their economic prescriptions. Burhan Beige called for direct government regulation of the whole economic mechanism to carry out in the economic sphere a commitment parallel to the engagement to political independence stated by the National Pact of 1920. Vedat Nedim Tor reiterated the need for a planned economy to end the chaos he saw besetting the Turkish economy. In fact, he demanded that "an industrial plan must be drawn up immediately," at least for the textile industry.2 Even beyond the Kadro circle others, such as Ahmet Hamdi Ba§ar, who had lost faith in liberal economic formulas, touted etatism as a middle path between capitalism and Communism. Bagar saw formulating a plan as the first task of Turkey's economic leadership and he joined the Kadroists also in judging that capitalists were exploiting workers and wage earners. For him, the recipe was for the government to run large economic enterprises. But Ba§ar differed from the Kadroists in his rejection of autarchy; indeed, he regarded international trade as useful. He also parted company with the Kadroists in his

1 Falih Riffa (Atay), "La Jeunesse et le Parti," Le Milliett, Mar. 21, 1931; section II, Article 2 of the 1931 program of the Republican Peoples Party stated: "One of our fundamental principles is to consider the people of the Turkish Republic as a community, not formed of separate classes, but separated for individual and social life." ^Burhan Asaf (Belge), "Yan Siyasi: Kararnamenin Rejimin," Hakimiyeti Milliye, Nov. 19, 1931; Vedat Nedim (Tor), "Devletgilige Dogru: Hadise Ilerliyor," Hakimiyeti Milliye, Nov. 19, 1931.

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insistence on democracy, where they were inclined to favor a sort of "democratic centralism" or guided democracy.1 The emphasis on the economic aspect of the Turkish revolution drew increasing fire from the conservative wing of the Republican Peoples Party. Ne§et Halil Atay argued that the revolution had to be explained by diverse factors, not merely economic ones. He asserted that "political, religious, legal, and psychological" factors lay behind the revolution. And he strongly rejected the Kadroist idea that the relations of metropoles and colonies were set by their economic functions. This critique was seconded by others, Mehmet Saffet Engin for one, who stressed the psychological and sociological aspects of the Turkish revolution. He was at pains to make clear that Kemalist "etatism is entirely different from collectivism that contradicts democracy." 2 This debate grew heated as Mustafa §eref, the Minister of Economics, imposed some extremely restrictive measures which all but completely cut off private foreign trade. At the same time, the government seemed to be making efforts to gain control of all major industry and business in Turkey. Outcry arose from all the private business interests who feared a gradual elimination of private enterprise. Although tsmet tnonii was a firm supporter of these policies and presumably backed his Minister of Economics to the hilt, Ataturk apparently took the initiative to force the resignation of Mustafa §eref and his replacement by Celal Bayar, who was then serving as Director of the 1§ Bankasi. It is likely that Inonii, although Prime Minister and thus the only one legally empowered to make cabinet selections, was not even consulted until after Celal Bayar had been privately informed of his appointment in September 1932.3 Kadro Capitalizing on the attention aroused by the heightening debate, in January 1932, Aydemir and his colleagues launched a new organ, Kadro, whose name became synonymous with their movement. They intended it as a vehicle to present their ideas in organized form. In a statement of purpose largely drafted by Aydemir, their new journal boldly proclaimed that "Turkey is in revolution. This revolution has not stopped.... On the contrary, it is widening and deepening." For the revolution to succeed, the Kadroists ' Hamdi (Ba§ar), "Iktisadi Devlet?ilik," Son Posta, Sept. 6, 8, 1931; see also his Ataturk ile Ug Ay ve 1930'dan Sonra TUrkiye (Istanbul: Tan Matbaasi, 1945) in which he spelled out his ideas at much greater length. 2 Ne§et Halil (Atay), "intalabin Birka? Cepheli Iyzahi," Hakimiyeti Milliye, Nov. 24, 1931; Mehmet Saffet (Engin), "Inkilabin Tek Cepheli iyzahi Miimkiin Degildir," Hakimiyeti Milliye, Nov. 23, 1931. •3 J Ahmet §ukrii Esmer, interview, Nov. 1954.

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advocated discipline and submerging individual will to the interests and will of the revolution as expressed by a vanguard cadre (in Turkish, "kadro"). In their view, "the deepening of the revolution" required "first of all the transfer and implantation of the principles" of the revolution and revolutionary discipline "from the minds of the vanguard cadre to the minds of the young generation, the urban population, and the peasants." To do this, the Turkish revolution had to have a systematic ideology, one which the Kadroists expected would "give birth to a new type of revolution" of world significance. To spread this news was the ostensible reason for Kadro's publication.1 True to this design, Kadro was entirely intellectual in approach, containing analyses of aspects of the Atattirk revolution and commentary on current events. The product was redolent of Marxist economic treatment and it stressed the validity of historical materialism as the analytical tool to understand social development. While thus basing its interpretation on Marxism, its main theme celebrated the Turkish revolution as the archetype of the inevitable struggle between metropoles and colonies. Without citing its authorities, it essentially followed Lenin's theory of imperialism as the final stage of capitalism. But the major difference between the Kadro formula and Marxist-Leninist doctrine lay in Kadro's deference to Atatiirk's categorical insistence that Turkey was a society without class conflict. The Kadroists treated very gingerly class interests within Turkey. Instead of talking about exploited classes, the country was characterized as exploited as a whole by imperialists, whom Kadro branded as unwilling to accept the Atattirk revolution. The Kadro design for Turkey's development, therefore, was one that in the first instance aimed to defend against the West rather than to bring Turkey to greater well-being and a higher standard of living.2 In this vein, Aydemir led off the first issue with a critique of the atmosphere of pessimism he saw infecting Turkey. He claimed that pessimism was being mobilized to defeat the Turkish revolution. "The pessimist is everywhere. He continuously whispers in our ears saying that everything is going bad." To Aydemir, pessimism was the weapon to break up the conscious and disciplined cadre leading the revolution. Thus he ended his analysis with the call to array all of Turkey's forces against pessimism. Optimism and revolutionary excitement were, he concluded, the sources of the strength necessary to make the Kemalist state prosper.3 1 "Kadro," Kadro, no. 1, Jan. 1932, p. 1. The idea that the revolution in Turkey was continuing was not original to Kadro. Yakup Kadri [Karaosmanoglu], "Le Kemalisme," Le Milliett, Aug. 20, 1927, had already stated "One of the most striking characateristics of Kemalism is precisely its unceasing development." 2 §evket Siireyya Aydemir had explored many of these themes in a two-part article on class war and national conflict that appeared shortly before Kadro's first issue was published. See his "En Biiyuk Tezat Kar§isinda: Smif Harpleri ve Millet Harpleri," Hakimiyeti Milliye, Dec. 6-7, 1931. 3 §evket Siireyya (Aydemir), "Pesimist," Kadro, no. 1, Jan 1932, pp. 2-5.

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Vedat Nedim Tor followed with an exhortation to move from a colonialist economy to a national economy. According to Tor, Turkey should seek to score a victory over the West in the economic realm comparable to the military victory over the Greeks in the struggle for independence. The specter of a return of the capitulations that handcuffed the Ottoman Empire was still an urgent danger in Tor's eyes. To him, Turkey must "be a model for colonies and semi-colonies" in establishing economic independence against the machinations of "foreign reaction" typified by the Ottoman Bank 1 , whose headquarters was in London. There were three possible courses of action which Tor identified as available for Turkey: (1) "to set up a Communist economic system" as Russia was attempting to do; (2) "to preserve the capitalist economic system" as the League of Nations was trying; or (3) "to create an independent national economy," the duty he saw incumbent on Turkey. In his view, this third course would require rejecting the economic advice of foreign experts who, he feared, opposed the industrialization of Turkey and who argued against its protective tariffs and efforts at financial selfsufficiency. He insisted that Turkey must not remain a mere supplier of raw materials for Europe. Rather he thought success in Turkey's venture would depend on having a comprehensive economic plan and a planned economy, because the Kadroists believed that the country had all the ingredients to construct a modern economy except a plan that would direct the work force to its goal. This was all the more necessary because they judged that Turkey— like the rest of the world—was ineluctably in the process of changing its economic structure to reject traditional capitalism.2 Kadro's third article came from the pen of Ismail Hiisrev Tokin. He elucidated the character of the financial crisis in raw material producing countries. His diagnosis held that the rapid fall in the volume of industrial production caused by the world-wide depression had ended the requirement for raw material imports in the developed countries. Even agricultural products were not in as much demand as before. That in turn produced an intense shortage of foreign exchange in the developing countries. Turkey was hurt badly and could not pay its debts for previous imports. This course of events weakened the value of Turkish currency. As a result, Turkey faced chronic deficits. In Tokin's view, however, the international crisis was thus a 'Coincidentally, the Turkish Communist Party Action Program of 1929 had cited the Ottoman Bank as an agency for imperialist control of Turkey. ^Dr. Vedat Nedim (Tor), "Mustemleke Iktisadiyatindan Millet Iktisadiyatina," Kadro, no. 1, Jan. 1932, pp. 6-9.

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structural problem and not one of markets which could be resolved by the fall in prices that would inevitably follow the stagnation of trade. In this situation, the remedy which Tokin advocated was in the first instance to reduce imports and then mobilize the whole economy through greater government regulation. But Tokin warned against borrowing from the West to meet financial stringencies as he felt Turkey's leaders would be tempted to do. 1 The basic critique of capitalism that pervaded Kadro's first issue, however, was made by Burhan Beige in his article on what he termed "the collapsing world order." He too stressed that the world was in a stage of revolutionary structural transformation. Using traditional Marxist analysis, Beige explained the First World War as a competition of capitalists for markets—especially Germany's search for colonies in order to sell goods. Although the war had impoverished the world, in its immediate aftermath credit and "easy money" let debts balloon out of control as initial pent-up demand for consumption after this conflict led to a cycle of highly artificial boom. The obligation to pay reparations destroyed German currency; in turn, that unbalanced the pound sterling and the dollar. In Beige's view, there was no way, therefore, to restore balance between production and consumption under the capitalist system. 2 Beige also identified the First World War as fostering the rise of the United States as a creditor nation and the world's paramount producer. This new factor disrupted the colonialist system by reducing the importance of the traditional colonies. The solution to the new crisis, in Beige's eyes, would come from "economic and social elements"—the most pointed suggestion that the Kadroists would venture toward implying a revolution by the proletariat. The duty incumbent on Turkey and on all consumer countries, Beige opined, was to open their eyes to capitalist exploitation and to import only "the means of production" from the West. Tariff walls were essential to break down the West's monopoly of capital and industry. In that process, "the Turkish revolution at the same time is a new and original event that will give direction and consciousness to the efforts of all nations like us." 3 The remaining articles in the first issue of Kadro celebrated the Turkish revolution as the force to render the imperialists "toothless and clawless." It was this force that Kadro argued could frustrate the economic designs which animated the supporters of the old order. And the Kadro answer was to continue Turkey's course away from an "individualistic economic system" and

^Ismail Hiisrev (Tokin), "Ham Madde Memleketlerindeki Para Buhrammn Karakteri," ibid, pp. 10-15. 2 Burhan Asaf (Beige), "Cihan i^inde Tilrkiye: £6kmekte Olan Cihan Nizami," ibid, pp. 21-27. 3 Ibid.

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toward "an etatist economic order." Fearing that imperialists understood that the Turkish revolution was to liberate national capital, Kad.ro charged that Turkey's enemies were considering sponsoring a return to the caliphate to frustrate national liberation movements in the Muslim world. In this situation, the Kadroists saw it Turkey's duty to proclaim that its revolution was "truly a world-wide" national liberation movement. And Kadro even advised preachers in mosques to tell their congregations that economic questions were the most important matters in the world at present.1 Finally, the first issue of Kadro urged the mobilization of students as well as doctors, agricultural experts, and teachers, to bring revolutionary zeal and knowledge to rural areas. This effort needed, in Kadro's view, to be supplemented by the creation of a popular revolutionary literature to combat subversion of the revolution by religious officials. Indeed, the religious resistance to Kemalism was identified by the Kadroists as one of the principal dangers still facing the regime.2 Subsequent issues of Kadro would embroider on these themes and respond to criticism from the left and from the right. Its bold stances would provoke excited dialogue at home and considerable notice abroad. Indeed, Kadro would emerge as the most important ideological battle ground in Turkey in the 1930s. Not only would it play a prominent role in the emergence of Celal Bayar as the main competitor of Inonii to define the content of economic policy for the Kemalist regime. It would also affect the fortunes of the Turkish Communist Party. Altogether, although from the first it was beleaguered, and despite the fact that it would have only a three year publication life, it would make a lasting impact on the Turkish scene.

'"Kronik: Inkilâbimiz ve Hilafet," ibid, pp. 38-41. This article was apparently written by Burhan Beige. See also "Tasarruf ve yerli mall haftasi," ibid, p. 48. 2 V . N. (Tör), "Ümmilikle Mticadele Için Köy Kamplan," ibid., pp. 43-44.

CHAPTER VI: The Communists and the Kadro Movement

The emergence of Kadro as ajournai propounding an allegedly scientific formula for the evolution of world relationships and the presence of a nucleus of former Communists at its core presented an obvious challenge to the Moscow-dominated Turkish Communist Party leadership. With its insistence on speaking for all progressive and reformist elements, Kadro was addressing the same audience as were the Communists. And the new organ was doing so in terms reminiscent of Communist jargon and doctrine. In short, to the Turkish Communist Parly's External Bureau Kadro had every appearance of being a Communist heresy. Moreover, to the Communists it seemed all the more dangerous because it was allowed legal status by the Kemalists. That meant that Kadro's public reach was far broader than anything to which the Turkish Communists could aspire. In this context, the émigré Communist leadership felt impelled to react without waiting for subsequent issues of the journal in which the full panoply of its ideas would be exposed. For this purpose, the Berlin leadership—almost certainly party Secretary General §evfik Hûsnù Deymer himself—composed a critique that ran to 29 typescript pages, presenting in detail the Communist view of the first issue of Kadro and its authors. 1 This document was sent to §evket Stireyya Aydemir in 1932, presumably shortly after publication of the new organ began, since the missive from Berlin does not refer to later issues of Kadro. The Berlin critique was clearly not a personal message. It was titled simply "KADRO" and bore no salutation or other indication of the audience to which it was addressed. It was signed "ben," the Turkish word for "I," perhaps to conceal from outsiders the identity of its author, though Aydemir had no doubt that it was penned by Deymer and indeed it strongly reflected his views. Its text also frequently called attention to the perfidy from the Communist point of view of the authors of the articles in Kadro. Disparagement of the Communist credentials of the Kadroists and ridicule of their ideas seemed important objectives of the missive, lending further verisimilitude to the assumption that Deymer, who was jealous of his leadership position, was responsible for it. For the complete Turkish text of this document, see Appendix 2. Mete Tungay reported that Aydemir told him of the existence of this letter, but did not let him read it. The covering letter that Aydemir sent to this author with the document makes clear that it was sent from Berlin, not Vienna. See Mete Tungay, Bilinecegi Bilmek, (Istanbul: Alan Yayincilik, 1983), p. 206.

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These features suggest that the Berlin document may have been intended as a circular to party members as well as to all those who had at any time had relations with the Communist Party—although no information on recipients other than Aydemir is available. From its tone, this circular could not have been intended to convince the Kadroists of the error of their ways, since reference to "traitors," "provocateurs," and "charlatans" and the like were used liberally for Aydemir and Tor. They were also accused of "idiocy," "foolishness," and "degeneracy." Indeed, the terms of personal abuse stung so much that almost forty years later Aydemir made an unsuccessful attempt to obliterate them by marking through them heavily in ink on the typed copy he provided this author.1 The Berlin critique began with an uncompromising characterization of the first issue of Kadro as the invention and "stupidity" of "Kemalist toadies." Embroidering on this theme, Deymer added—although without giving any particulars—that he found boundless "nonsense" in Kadro which he called an "amalgam" of incompatible ideas. The Kadroists were then condemned for enunciating a "philosophy of reaction" instead of one of revolution as they claimed to intend. The circular lamented that "while damning imperialism," Kadro "asks succor and aid from it." In short, in Kadro "ideas as well as words swear at one another." The first specific point of attack, however, was the matter of the definition of revolution. At this point in his evolution, Deymer now frankly questioned whether there had ever been a genuine revolution in Turkey. For the Berlin émigrés, revolution could not be a question of externals, as this document characterized Atatiirk's efforts to reform dress and headgear in Turkey to be, for example. In Communist eyes, "if it were possible to make revolution by dress and by headgear, revolution would not have any basic meaning." Deymer pointed to German alphabet reform—though not by any means as radical or comprehensive as the change from Arabic to Latin characters that Atatiirk directed—noting that "no one there thought of calling this new mode a revolution." Deymer even disparaged the reform of the legal code to dispense with Islamic law and the declaration of the republic as superficial changes merely taken over from Europe with much "noisy celebrations." Yet to Deymer the "illegal administration continues as before." The term "republic" was a mere play on words in which "Sultan Ghazi [i.e., Atatiirk] succeeds Sultan Vahdettin." While "Sultan Vahdettin girded on a sword when he acceded to the sultanate, Sultan Ghazi permits himself such amusement every three or four years."

^Despite his best efforts, the offending passages remained legible when held up to the light. They are rendered in italics in Appendix 2.

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To Communists, however, essentially important was whether the mechanics of the movement in Turkey, as well as the outcome, were truly revolutionary. For them, revolution had to connote class struggle on economic bases and nothing else. Thus in the circular, Deymer cited Vilfredo Pareto's mathematical formula for the conduct of class conflict ("class B...takes the place of class A and plays the role of A in respect to a third class B"). On this basis, he charged that the only change from Ottoman ways that could be discerned in Turkey's Republican ruling structure was that "some individuals, after struggling against some other individuals, succeed them in the same functions. But all the economic and social functions of the old regime, i.e., of the absolutist period, continue as before." Indeed, to the Berlin emigres, the exploitation of labor by capital continued unchanged in the Kemalist republic. At the same time, seemingly to excuse his tardiness in recognizing that Kemalism was not a true revolution, Deymer claimed that it was the Free Republican Party experience of 1930 that demonstrated that the Republican Peoples Party leaders were "nothing but robber barons." Declaiming against the "gag" on the press in Turkey, the critique termed Kemalism "an imaginary revolution," inasmuch as it was merely "an unconsciously feudal regime that considers itself bourgeois." Indeed, instead of revolution "deepening" in Turkey, the Berlin circular identified "general poverty of the country" as what was persistently deepening. Hence Kadro's appeal for all in Turkey to adapt to the Kemalist revolution and support it absolutely was to Deymer possible "only in the phantasmagoria of Kadro." Those with differing class interests could not, according to Communist theory, cooperate with each other harmoniously. Warming to the point, the circular claimed that the ideological foundations of what was called the Atatiirk revolution were not clear. Deymer could find no ideological underpinnings for the acts of the Republican Peoples Party and he noted that "in historical revolutions such ideological foundations are advance indicators preceding the revolution." According to the Berlin commentator, through its pretensions to elaborate an ideology, Kadro was merely compounding an amalgam of inconsistent and disparate theories stolen from the West. Deymer argued that as long as Kemalist ideological foundations remain "phony" and "contrary to reality," its acts are destined basically to be "fatalistic, random movements" and "its theories and laws must be only idle chatter." The Berlin critique thus complained that to have any value "Kadro must first determine what it means by revolution and the class whose ideology it wants to defend." That, of course, was not advice likely to be taken, as Kadro specifically denied the need to view Turkey as a class society.

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Turning next to the article on pessimism, Deymer called it "the sophistry of the traitor §evket Siireyya [Aydemir], who was driven out of the Communist movement." The émigré leader accused Aydemir of confusing the "concept of pessimism and the concept of an optimism that has experienced disillusionment." Clearly seeking any stick to beat Aydemir, Deymer quoted from Georges Sorel, whose Reflexions on Violence provided an unorthodox source from the Communist perspective. Sorel's work had been dismissed by Lenin contemptuously in the one mention to be found in Lenin's Complete Works. In fact, Sorel in his career seemed to have made a virtue out of being paradoxical and contrarily provocative. Nevertheless, the Turkish Communist leader used Sorel to justify terming pessimism a most constructive force for political change. Deymer quoted Sorel at length to the effect that "nothing great will be able to be done in the world without pessimism." He then noted Sorel's warning that an optimist was an "unstable and even dangerous man," who "frequently thinks that small reforms in the political order, and, above all, in the personnel of the government, will be sufficient to end social catastrophes and poverty." On this basis, Deymer claimed that Aydemir, instead of moving to a deeper understanding of social determinism, went from skepticism to "degeneration." He charged Aydemir with failing to realize that "the day he adopts a determinist idea on the causes and factors of the environment and of his own defects and shortcomings, the pessimist becomes a creative creature and is able to give a positive direction to his activities." Then, in an extremely personal vein, the document maintained that as a result of Aydemir's "defects, his character, and his education and as a result of the weakness of his physical structure and brain, he gradually lost confidence in Communism." This degeneration led to "hallucinations" and "hypochondria" which in the eyes of the Berlin critic brought Aydemir to a "counterfeit populism" to attract followers. The level of personal invective and the paucity of what might be called "mainline" Marxist criticism in this part of the critique suggest that Deymer must have felt in competition with §evket Siireyya Aydemir for leadership of the Communist Party constituency. As for Aydemir, many years later in reacting to this criticism he pointed to ironic words he had earlier written in Aydinlik: "We hear voices of approval not from the applause of our friends but from the waves of malice and rancor of our enemies." But he went on to say that he did not consider Deymer an enemy, rather an "old comrade" whose fate was linked with his for a time. And Aydemir implied, unrealistically, that inasmuch as his major work, înkilâp ve Kadro, had not yet been published, Deymer might have had more approving words to say if he had read the extended argument. That seems quite unlikely, given the feelings of rivalry

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that existed between the two. And there is no evidence that even after înkilâp ve Kadro was available that Deymer took a môre approving stance.1 Concluding this attack on Aydemir's article, Deymer went further to excuse his original failure to comprehend that the Kemalist movement was not a revolution in Marxian terms. Noting that the declaration of the republic in Turkey had "resembled the start of a true revolution," he argued in convoluted fashion that what was pervading Turkey was "not optimism that has experienced disillusionment," but an "unconscious pessimism." Deymer argued that "this pessimism is a reaction not to the success of the revolution but on the contrary to its sterility." But following the dialectical paradigm dear to the heart of the Communists, he claimed that "decline proceeding from economic causes gives rise to pessimism; pessimism too reciprocally affects action on economic conditions." As a result, the missive projected what proved to be an unrealistic estimate but echoed the Comintern line of the day that a "basic and true revolution" would take place in Turkey in "the more or less near future." Deymer made a no less slashing attack on Tor's contribution to Kadro. In his words, "the third article in Kadro belongs to the stupidity of Vedat Nedim [Tor], who has the honor of being the foremost dishonorable provocateur in Turkey." The circular ridiculed Tor for defining the major economic achievement of the Turkish revolution to be the rescinding of the capitulations. In Deymer's view, the capitulations deprived Turkey of the possibility to move to the capitalist stage of development. For the Berlin Communists at this point in their ideological evolution, Turkey under the Kemalists had but two options: (1) either to cut itself off from the outside world entirely, or (2) to open itself to imperialist capital. Faced with these choices, the Berlin writer argued that the only force that could save Turkey was the Turkish proletariat, "which alone could shoulder the task of breaking the shell of medieval feudalism" gripping Turkey. Indeed, in Deymer's eyes, the Turkish economic problem was now more an internal than an external question. At this point in his argument, Deymer excoriated Tor for being a "vagabond" and "unskilled in economic science," who saw the establishment of a new economic system in Turkey as exclusively a question of money. From his Berlin vantage point, Deymer argued with some justice that tariff protection desired by the Kadroists would "assure millions for a tiny minority by robbing the majority of the nation." To the Berlin émigrés, "a man must

' ijevkct Sureyya Aydemir's letter to the author of Dec. 6, 1969, covering the transmission of the Berlin critique.

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be bird-brained to think as simply" as to regard Turkey's main economic issue as a question of foreign exchange as Tor was alleged to have done. In Deymer's view, "in order for a modern economic system to be able to take root in Turkey, first of all one needs an order suitable for this economic system." Mechanization required organized, expert workers, but such a work force could not come into being "as long as the worker is prevented from freedom of organization, freedom of publications, and freedom of engaging in politics." As long as such freedom was not given to the proletariat, that class was doomed to remain ignorant. That meant to the émigré Communists that a modern economy for Turkey would have to rely on foreign expert workers. And to get them, it would have to make concessions to the Western imperialists. The Berlin Communists saw no hope that the Kemalist regime would be able to resolve the economic problems it faced by falling back on Turkey's own resources. The Kad.ro recipe enunciated by "economic charlatans and magicians like Vedat Nedim [Tor] and his confederates" was like "building castles in Spain." Hence, Deymer expected that the country would have no choice but to "surrender to imperialism." This meant to him that Turkey would have to move from its present disguised feudalism to capitalism, a transition that in standard Communist theory would provide political benefits to the imperialists, while moving closer to eventual proletarian revolution. Indeed, Deymer regarded Kemalist Turkey as already "willy-nilly" on the path of reinstating the capitulations in piecemeal fashion. The Berlin document ridiculed Tor for not recognizing this course of events, but instead for characterizing Turkey as the most stable state in the Balkans and the Middle East. Indeed, to Deymer, Turkey was "decadent" and its historical development followed "a negative course." The Berlin writer also attacked Tor for claiming that Turkey had no example to follow in moving from a colonial to a nationalist economy. Deymer rejected Kadro's analysis—shared by Atatiirk—that Turkey was exploited as a whole. The Communists warned of the baleful role of the local entrepreneurs in Turkey who were alleged to serve foreign imperialists. The challenge of the Turkish workers, according to the commentary, was to create "not a national economy in the place of a colonial economy, but to create a proletarian economy." Thus it was "charlatanism" pure and simple for Tor to urge Turkey to resolve this problem in a way other than that followed by the USSR. The Kadroists just "hide their heads in the ground like sparrows" and find consolation in forced optimism. "The Russian revolution today is the sole revolution that can be an example for the colonial workers and for workers of the backward feudal nations," categorically alleged the document. This analysis stood as a direct repudiation of Deymer's earlier urging that Turkey bring about a form of state capitalism.

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In the same vein, the Berlin document ridiculed Tor's diagnosis that Turkey had the three options: either "to set up a Communist economic system," or to preserve the "capitalist economic system," or to "create an independent national economy." For Communists there was simply no choice. Deymer judged that the "revolution in Russia had swept clean the remnants of feudalism...and gave directly the possibility to the colonial peoples of Tsarism...to create a worker economy." Hence Turkey was "not in position to give a lesson to the colonies of the world, but [rather] to take a lesson from the worker economy today of the former Russian colonies." On the other hand, to try to preserve the capitalist system would merely entrench bourgeois exploitation. The European Social Democratic parties and the Amsterdam Second International were hard at work trying to do just that, said Deymer. Finally, Tor's call for a plan and program to industrialize Turkey consisted of slight-of-hand. It was like "a camel giving birth to a gnat." To the émigré Communists, bourgeois and feudal regimes were regimes of anarchy, relying on property. In such situations, every owner could use his wealth as he pleased, thus frustrating a planned economy. Hence, Kadro's call to pass from a "colonial economy to a national economy" could not be enough to save Turkey from economic confusion, in the Berlin diagnosis. To think otherwise was "only a sterile dream." Other articles in the first issue of Kadro were ignored by the Berlin critic except for Beige's analysis of the world economy. Beige's piece was characterized as the sole article of any "scientific value," presenting some "scientific formulas." Yet at the same time it too was deemed awash with error and foolishness from the Communist point of view. For guidance in reformulating his argument, the Berlin critic referred Beige to the Hungarian economist Eugen Varga, who had analyzed the failure of agricultural producers to rationalize their production. While accepting Beige's appraisal of the defects of capitalism, the Berlin commentator rejected the notion that the industrialized countries had no need for the backward countries and that the industrialized world no longer required raw materials as a result of the depression. On the contrary, the Communist view held that the capitalist countries needed areas whose workers they could exploit for maximum profit, but not areas that would consume industrial products as Kadro asserted. For the capitalists, "the most natural solution of this question is to industrialize these backward countries," but by giving them structures that would—"like the pyramids in Egypt"— only increase privation. This "counterfeit" industrialization was the cause of tension between backward countries and the imperialists, according to Deymer. He argued that the imperialists could not afford to stand idly by to see a skilled worker cadre form and organize in the backward countries as the Kadro recipe intended.

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The Berlin commentary did not spare the Republican Peoples Party in its condemnation. Going beyond the critique of Kadro, it argued that even though the Kemalist leaders might reject reports of foreign experts that recommended against industrialization, these "exploitive" Turkish party officials were like "a cavalryman who has mounted his donkey backward," but were "not even aware that they are going backward." "Today, there are only two forces with the power to industrialize backward countries: one is the force of foreign imperialist capital; the other is the force [i.e., Communism] uniting the workers of these countries." Contrary to what Kadro espoused, to the Berlin emigres the "local exploiters [i.e., the Kemalists] are a reactionary force seeking to turn the wheels of history backward." In the Communist view, this reactionary force was doomed, for the issue would be resolved by conflict between workers and imperialists alone.1

Kadro's

Rebuttal

The Kadroists did not reply directly to the criticisms leveled by the Berlin letter. But in view of the criticism of their ideas from this direction as well as from more conservative Kemalists, they did see the need to flesh out their arguments in organized fashion. Thus in August 1932, Aydemir signaled in Kadro that he was that month going to bring out a book on the subject of Kadro and the Kemalist revolution. Indeed, in the same issue of the journal, he expanded his earlier eight points now to eleven in a way that sought to answer indirectly some of the criticisms leveled at his thesis. This article would be repeated almost verbatim in his new book, inhldp ve Kadro. Aydemir's main argument was that national liberation movements were not the superficial revolution in social relations that Deymer had criticized. Instead, without mentioning Deymer or the Turkish Communists by name, Aydemir stressed that international economic contradictions even more than the political contradictions that Marxists identified made national liberation movements unique and significant. He rejected the Leninist-Stalinist interpretation that the colonies and semi-colonies of the East would form a "reserve force" against capitalism. To Aydemir, national liberation struggles

I j h e essence of the Communist criticism of Kadro was presented in the report to the Seventh Congress of the Comintern, when the author wrote: "In vain the bourgeois publicists demonstrated that in Turkey there could not be a crisis, unemployment, etc. In vain the liquidators excluded from the CP, united in the Kadro group headed by Vedat Nedim and §evket Sureyya, proved that the economic structure of Kemalist Turkey was founded on the universality of class interest of the whole nation. The revolutionary demands of workers and the unemployed under the leadership of the CP made clear that the Turkish economy was subject to the universal laws of capitalism." See Communist International, "Turkey," Kommunisticheskii internatsional pered VII vsemirnym Kongressom (Materialy), Moscow: Parizdat, 1935, p. 491.

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were not in any way "satellites" of the world proletarian revolution as Soviet writers insisted. Nor were national liberation movements "negative and reactionary movements" dedicated merely to achieve autarchy as Deymer asserted the Turkish revolution aimed to be. Instead they were a transitional stage to create a "new economic entity" which would allow these states to participate in a more rational fashion in the world economy, "escaping from being raw materials producers" and agricultural suppliers for the developed West. Most important, Aydemir rebutted the idea that national liberation movements were an adjunct of class warfare. And he took the comforting position—reminiscent of Mustafa Subhi's assurances to the Kemalists—that intellectuals were of no class but instead "belonged to the nation as a whole." They were the "vanguard" to interpret the new form of revolution. And finally, he reiterated his claim that "Turkey is the full and true representative of National Liberation Movements," having purged completely its economic contradictions both inside the country and in terms of relations with the outside world. It "sketched out a new path for countless human masses of the world and gives a new direction by its national liberation movement." 1 In the greater space afforded by his book, inkilap ve Kadro, Aydemir also directly criticized Marx and the Third International for their superficial views of national liberation movements. He pointed out that Marx saw these movements as only political, ignoring their economic aspects. But the Comintern was the principal butt of Aydemir's attack. He pointed out that while Lenin had proclaimed that all nationalities in the Tsarist Empire could separate from Moscow, only Finland was allowed to do so by the Soviet regime. Despite the fact that early Comintern congresses paid attention to national liberation movements, serious work on these movements by Communists was lacking. Aydemir noted that of prominent MarxistLeninists, only G. Safarof wrote extensively on the subject. But in inkilap ve Kadro he dismissed Safarof s survey of liberation movements in the East as "insignificant." Burhan Beige followed up this argument in Kadro in September 1932. Beige, clearly using Safarof as a foil for Deymer, ridiculed Safarof for quoting Stalin who suggested that the movement headed by the Afghan king [Amanullah] could be called truly "revolutionary." The Kadro writer dissented from the notion that national liberation movements would skip the capitalist phase and pass directly to socialism as Communists implied. A look at the population in colonies showed the Kadroists that peasants predominated by a huge margin and that "labor" was merely a "lumpen" proletariat of small size. Hence, Beige argued that the class issue so dear to Deymer was important only 'See especially, "inkilapm Ideolojisi: Milli Kurtulus Hareketlerinin Ana Prensipleri," Kadro, no. 8, Aug. 1932, pp. 6-12.

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to the extent that it was necessary to create a unity of purpose in the country. And finally, Beige dismissed the international Communist movement's ability to pontificate on the issue by repeating Aydemir's statement that "only people belonging to a nation that made [such] a revolution could be able to develop a theory of national liberation revolution."1 Moscow's

Critique

The line of the Turkish Communists in Berlin was not embraced by the Soviet government. Moscow, after all, did not want to disturb state-to-state relations with Turkey for the sake of a Communist Party with an uncertain future. This point was made clear when the Soviet press in April 1932, celebrated with extensive coverage the arrival of Prime Minister ismet Inonii and Foreign Minister Tevfik Rii§tu Aras for the first visit of senior Turkish leaders to Moscow in history. In this context, the Izvestiia issue which welcomed them in this unprecedented gesture of friendship also explained the Kadro movement in a quite favorable light. The Soviet author writing under the pseudonym of Peregrinus described ideological movements in contemporary Turkey. He stressed that the Kadroists taught that "the capitalist system has outlived itself' and that colonial peoples must wage a bitter struggle against imperialism in which "no compromises are permitted." Peregrinus claimed that the appearance of such a "new current" supporting the development of the economy through etatism was symptomatic of the Turkish response to the extraordinary economic crisis in Turkey. To Moscow, the chief point of interest in the Kadro program was its dedication to the struggle against the capitulations, those remnants of a colonialist past which the Kremlin saw as having been imposed by a compradore bourgeoisie. The international Communist leadership was always concerned that they might be reimposed by the Western imperialists. At the same time, the Soviet commentator noted favorably Kadro's advocacy of "broad intervention in state and private economy" on the basis of plans and regulations. Unlike Deymer, Moscow did not dismiss Turkish moves toward elaborating Five-Year plans as mere window-dressing.2 This Izvestiia article was noted by Aydemir in the June 1932 issue of Kadro. He agreed that the Soviet newspaper had summarized the basic idea of the Turkish journal about the contradiction between metropoles and colonies. He noted approvingly that the Soviets recognized that these ideas were ' §evkct Siireyya Aydemir, inkilap ve Kadro (Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, 2d ed. 1968), passim; B[urhan] A[saf) [Beige], "Politik: Milli Kurtulu§ Hareketleri ve Bunlann inkilap Nazariyeleri (G. Safarof a Cevaptir)," Kadro, no. 9, Sept. 1932, pp. 39-42. ^Peregrinus, "Litso nyneshnei Turtsii," Izvestiia, Apr. 28, 1932, p. 2. The Soviet author also noted favorably Falih Rifki Atay who advocated studying the experience of the USSR.

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important in explaining the direction of development of the Turkish revolution. But Aydemir devoted his main attention to taking issue at length with Izvestiia's implication that Turkey was a "victim" of the world economic crisis. To him, that missed the whole point of the Kadro movement. Instead, he argued that the widespread economic depression was a "birth pang" of a new world economic order in which "colonies and semi-colonies" would develop economically and break the "hegemony" of the industrialized countries. Kadro was announcing "good news," not in effect merely complaining about the exploitative world order, said Aydemir.1 Kadro and the Kemalists Though some of its ideas met wide-spread acceptance among the intellectual leadership in Turkey, Kadro would run into an increasingly difficult reception in Kemalist circles. To be sure, the new journal had permission of the party leaders to publish; Atatiirk himself had ordered ten subscriptions for the Presidential Palace. Yet the Kadro founders seemed on the defensive from the start. A whispering campaign against the Kadroists, accusing them of secretly remaining members of the Turkish Communist Party, steadily gained in intensity. Such important journalists as Yunus Nadi and Hiiseyin Cahid Yal9in led the charge against them. 2 There were some on the other side who all along tried to give Kadro a fair hearing. Son Posta made clear that "Supporters of the New Current are not Communists," and the paper sought to explain Kadro's views in a balanced fashion. 3 But even though Hakimiyeti Milliye defended the publication and Inonii wrote an article for Kadro, agitation among Atatiirk's inner circle would have a cumulative effect over time. In the end, Atatiirk himself clearly became concerned about the divisive effects of Kadro. Perhaps with the discreet encouragement of Celal Bayar, in the fall of 1935, he moved to end this experiment by appointing Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu as ambassador to Tirana, Albania. Enemies in Atatiirk's entourage had accused Karaosmanoglu of sabotaging Turkey's economic policy. He had been attacked by Party Secretary General Recep Peker for publishing material that would "shake the foundations of the regime." He was also accused of promoting factionalization of the Republican Peoples party.

S. [Aydemir], "Kronikler. Kadro ve Izvestiya," Kadro, June 1932, pp. 46-47. ^See "Fikirde ve Sanatta Inkilàp?! Hamleler Ìstiyoruz," Cumhuriyet, July 28, 1932. ^"Yeni Cereyan Taraftarlari Komunist Degildirler," Son Posta, Sept. 1, 1931; "Yeni Cereyan Taraftarlari Ne Düfünüyorlar?", Son Posta, Sept. 2, 1931.

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Although he did not admit his guilt, with his departure, the publication of Kadro could not continue.1 Kadro ended as it began with a ringing affirmation that the Turkish revolution was continuing. Aydemir acknowledged that "for many, this revolution was too much." And many still saw the revolution as finished. He continued to assert that Kemalism was neither democratic nor anti-democratic. It was neither fascism nor Communist class dictatorship. But to Kadro Turkey's system was a brand new order, liberated from both class struggle and reaction. Then echoing the Communist appreciation of the value of propaganda, Aydemir stressed that publicists writing newspapers, journals, books and the like were the leading force of every revolution. Indeed, no revolution could occur without ideology, Kadro asserted. But Kadro's demise would not open a clear path for the Communists. Its impact as a legitimate exponent of Kemalism would give its ideas a cachet of authority that no subterranean movement could rival. While a more liberal interpretation of Turkey's economic system by the Bayar faction of Kemalists could also compete and lay the groundwork for the eventual abandonment of the protectionist regime the Kadroists advocated many decades later, these liberal and conservative interpretations of Kemalism and not international Communist doctrine would be the main contestants for the allegiance of the Turkish élite.

*Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoglu, Zoraki Diplomat (Ankara: Bilgi Yayinevi, 2nd ed. 1967), pp. 528.

CHAPTER VII: Toward the United Front and Beyond

As for the Communists operating inside Turkey, in the early 1930s they were going through a troubled period that made it difficult for the Istanbul leaders to mount a concerted response to Kadro. Lines of command were not clear after Ediz dropped from sight toward the end of 1931. Periodic arrests continually disrupted the chain of command. It appears that Emin Sektin and Emin Bilecan were both active as leaders. Sektin had attended the Communist University for Toilers of the East and had headed the Party's Youth League. He was considered a Comintern loyalist and had previously been arrested for distributing posters. Bilecan had attended the Communist University for Toilers of the East and was given organizations duties by Deymer after Sekiin was arrested. In accordance with instructions from the external leadership they were attempting to carry on agitation.1 Consequently, they had other problems than Kadro on their agenda.

The Nazxm Hikmet Problem From 1929 when he was expelled from the Communist Party, until the end of 1932, when he was arrested and jailed for a time, Nazim Hikmet remained at large as a discordant note on the Communist scene. Indeed, he was the major focus of party controversy. His standing as a widely-regarded poet of a pronounced leftist slant gave him an intellectual stature that others could not ignore. And he took the position that the party did not belong to anyone: "I entered the Party by myself. If they throw me out of the door, I will enter through the chimney." 2 He added, "Regarding my relations with the Party, it would be wrong to think of me as an orderly taking instructions from it." His aim was to increase the stature of the party through his poetry. As he later explained: "A passive tie to the Party—merely to be a Party member—would give no benefit. It was necessary that Party, nation, and art be in synch."3 Such a conception could not sit well with the needs of becoming a professional revolutionary. He was too impulsive and too eager for the limelight to lead the underground existence that was necessary for revolutionaries. But that did not stop him from trying to reinsert himself in the party from which he had been expelled. ' Aclan Sayilgan, Soluti 94 Yili (1871-1965) (Ba§langigtan Günümüze Türkiye'de Komünist Hareketler), no place of publication or date indicated, pp.204-207. 2 Rady Fish, Näzimin Qksi (Istanbul: Gün Yayinlan, 1969), p. 305. 3 Ibid„ p. 307.

Sosyalist-

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Unlike the parade of those claiming to be the Communist Party leaders on the scene inside of Turkey at this time—but more in line with Deymer and the external party leadership—Nazim Hikmet did react to the formation of the Kadro movement. He complained that §evket Siireyya Aydemir had not kept his word to assist him. This feeling that he had been deceived was reinforced when an invitation to come to Ankara extended by poet Behget Kemal £aglar led to what Nazim Hikmet considered a "stab in the back" by Aydemir. And in the grip of these feelings of betrayal, Nazim Hikmet then wrote a poem, which he introduced with the judgment that the Kadroists were following "a kind of neo-fascist ideology in the form of a secret religion."1 Kizil Istanbul played a part in this contest as the mouthpiece for the local Communist Party Central Committee. Toward mid-1932, while noting that the economic crisis was deepening in Turkey and exaggerating the extent to which class conflict was intensifying, this clandestine publication warned that in seeking to counter the threats against its position the bourgeoisie was using a number of tactics dangerous to the party. "White terror" (the Communist term for arrests of Communists) on the one hand was complemented by Kemalist efforts to infiltrate false leftists into the labor movement on the other. In regard to the latter, the Istanbul Communist leadership singled out Nazim Hikmet and his confederates, rather than the Kadroists, as the main danger. After all, Nazim Hikmet was actively competing for the true mantle of Communism, while the Kadroists claimed to be trying to develop an ideology for Kemalism instead. Hence, Kizil Istanbul accused him and his colleagues of "trying to deceive the working class" by putting "phony" Communist masks on their faces. 2 To the Communist Central Committee in Istanbul, the outcome of the latest arrests made this deception clear. Km I Istanbul boldly asserted: "As part of a police maneuver, Nazim Hikmet was summoned to the police station and after two hours was let free. This shows conclusively that he had sold out." Because Nazim Hikmet and his confederates had revealed their true faces, "by decision of the Third International and our party, they were expelled from the party," proclaimed the Istanbul organ. The Communist leadership went on to say that Nazim Hikmet's offense was basically that his group was sowing confusion, proposing to make a separate party, and selling out the working class. Kizil Istanbul sought to convince its audience that the workers were fed up with these dissidents and would not follow such men. Not surprisingly, the party organ proclaimed that the true leader of the working class was "the 1 Kemal Siilker, Nazim Hikmet'in Gergek Ya§ami, 2. Cilt (1929-1933) (Istanbul: Yalein Yayinlari, 1967), pp. 247-258; Ya§ar U$ar (ed.), Nazim Hikmet: Segmeler..., vol. 2, (Istanbul: Ararat Yayinevi, 1969), pp. 606-608. 2 "Nazim Hikmet ve Hempasimn Hakiki Cehreleri," Kizil Istanbul, 1932, no. 37, reprinted in i§ginin Sesi, no. 268, Oct. 1,1984, p. 14.

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Communist Party that has given hundreds of sacrificial victims for the sake of the workers." It pledged that the Turkish Communist Party would lead the working class in an organized struggle against such masked traitors to the class.1 While the interim Communist leadership also accused Nazim Hikmet of cowardice, their method of operation according to Aclan Sayilgan was often quite timid. They used the mails to spread party propaganda instead of risking delivering it in person. That indirect method of proselytizing did not stop arrests that continued to upset the party. When party members tried bolder tactics, the authorities clamped down firmly. After tobacco workers attempted to demonstrate on the first of May 1932, Kizil Istanbul warned that "the struggle of our comrades who are lying in jail is the struggle of all of us." 2 Defending the Soviet Union At this time, Kizil Istanbul, in line with Comintern directives, began to react to the fact that the mainline press in Turkey seemed to equate fascist Italy and Soviet Russia as equally worthy of emulation. The Communist organ reminded readers that the USSR had helped Turkey's "national liberation revolutionary movements," a backhanded confession that Turkey had gone through a revolution. And it noted that the "worker-peasant" government in Russia was working and had worked to prevent Turkey from falling "entirely" into the hands of the imperialists. Kizil Istanbul pointed out that assisting Turkish independence was the goal of the warmth shown by the Kremlin to Ismet Inonii on his April 1932 trip to Moscow. The Communists reported that this trip came at a very delicate time: "The Kemalist bourgeoisie, which was struggling [to deal with] the [economic] crisis, had recently strengthened greatly its inclination to make concessions to foreign capital." As evidence of this inclination to surrender, Kizil Istanbul noted that §iikru Saracoglu had recently visited the United States, and in Ankara an American-Turkish Friendship Society had been set up. At the same time, the Communists insisted that Moscow was the true friend of the working masses. Indeed, Soviet relations with Turkey were, they claimed, always built on the basis of the interest of the working classes. "Turkey, which thinks its bourgeoisie was successful in making a revolution, will become a true friend of the Soviet Union by declaring and carrying out a Soviet regime through revolution here." In order to accomplish this task, "the duty of our party is, by increasing the hatred of the working class against the bourgeoisie, to sharpen the struggle we ^Ibid. Sayilgan, pp. 205-207; Rifat, "Son Tevkifler...," Kizil Istanbul, 1932, no. 37, reprinted in i^inin Sesi, no. 268, Oct. 1,1984, p. 14. 2

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embarked on for true Soviet friendship, for Turkey to be entirely independent, and for revolution." Consequently, the Communist organ pledged the party to organize the workers for this struggle.1 These remarks which envisaged eventual revolution were largely repeated in the article devoted to Inonii's trip to Moscow, where the author painted Soviet reality in the most rosy of colors. According to the Istanbul Communists, in Soviet lands the economic dominance of the working classes prevented exploitation of the masses by the bourgeoisie. In Turkey, on the other hand, Kizil Istanbul judged that the bourgeoisie was exerting such tyranny on the masses of workers that they were simply "unable to breathe." The institution of a Soviet regime in Turkey will be possible, said this paper, as it was in the old Tsarist Russia only "by a revolution that the broad masses of workers will make with the working class and the Communist Party at their head." It was out of the question for the Kemalists to perform such a revolution, because they were representatives of the bourgeoisie. 2 Such remarks surely could not have been expected to endear the Communist Party to the Kemalists or encourage Ankara to break with the German and Italian fascists. Reflecting the growing Comintern desire to energize world Communist parties to defend the Soviet Union from attack by fascists, Kizil Istanbul also provided an analysis of the Manchurian danger as Japan extended its reach in this direction. After blaming imperialists for ignoring the danger in Manchuria, the Communist organ drew the conclusion that: The duty incumbent on the revolutionary workers of the whole world is to protest the attack against the fatherland [of all workers, i.e., the USSR] and, if there is a war, to turn this war into an internal civil war. Therefore, the Turkish worker and peasant who form a part of the workers of the world will follow this same path.3 Beside such revolutionary sentiments, Kizil Istanbul continued to give coverage to strikes. Drawing lessons from the experience of the tobacco workers at the customs warehouse in Istanbul, it concluded that: 1. We cannot get our rights by applying to the [Republican] Peoples Party and its government. 2. When the working class unites, no force can break its action. ^Rifat, "Son Tevkifler...," Kizil Istanbul, 1932, no. 37, reprinted in ¡.¡ginin Sesi, no. 268, Oct. 1, 1984, p. 14. 2 "ismet'in Moskova Seyahati," Kizil Istanbul, 1932, no. 37, reprinted in igginin Sesi, no. 269, Oct. 15, 1984, p. 14. 3"Man