They told me he was a Unionist!

It was a sunny February day, but dark clouds started to gather with a faint wind. It was as if the clouds were covering the body that was lying in the middle of the field.

Neriman let out a whimper. Jamil looked at her in surprise. Then he realised that he was holding her arm too tight. He let go of his grip, sat on the divan and smiled weakly at Neriman as if to apologize. He unloaded the gun and stared at it as if seeing it for the first time. He was nervous and suddenly became chilled. His old wound from the shrapnel embedded in his left shoulder began to ache. He lit a cigarette from the fire on the heater. He inhaled deeply.

Abdulhamit inspecting his soldiers

“Jamil, who could that man be?”

“I don’t know”

“Shall I go out to investigate?”

 Neriman went outside without even waiting for his answer. Jamil rubbed his face. Then he looked outside. They had covered the body with some matting, however the wind was blowing it away and the snow was drifting on top of him. Because of that, the large mound with a pile of snow on it started to look like a grave from far away. Jamil thought, “This is crazy. Why did they let him go out of his safe house in the daytime? Does the Unionist think they are still in power? This can’t be Dr.Rashid. Omer the Patriot should know better than that.”

He forgot his cigarette on his lips while he was mindlessly taking the cartridge in and out of his gun. He was lost in thought.

Neriman’s son Enver entered the room. He was breathless.

“Uncle Jamil, that guy is dead. He shot himself. Did you see what happened?”

“No, I didn’t see.”

“I saw him. His lips were blue from the cold. His black eyes were bright. They told me that he was a Unionist!*

Jamil didn’t pay attention at first, but then he was surprised by Enver talking about Unionists. He asked, “What do you know about the Unionists?”

“I don’t know. They say because of Unionists we lost the war, they are Traitors...Infidels...”

“Who says Unionists are Infidels? Where did you hear that from?”

“The Grocer Haji was talking about it.”

That Grocer once worked in the palace as Abdulhamid’s cook. He had his white turban on and took an active part in the demonstrations against Unionists on March 31^st. Even though he was one of the reactionaries he was able to hide his identity. After March 31st, he went into hiding and waited for the clashes to end between the supporters of the Unionists and reactionaries. Then when everything returned to normal he moved to this neighborhood, pretending he had nothing to do with the unrest and opened up a shop here. He said that he was returning from Mecca, from his pilgrimage and he was not living in Istanbul during the unrest. He had connections in the Food Rationing Department and he knew some rich Greek wholesalers. That’s how he got rich during war years.

“Was Haji pleased that the man shot himself?”

“He was very pleased. He said that it was only just. Committing suicide is a sin; he would die as an infidel. Is that true Uncle Jamil? Will he go straight to hell?”

Then the child saw the gun and asked: “What is that? Can I play with it? Please let me have a look!”

“No, it is not a toy”

“I know what those are .They are bullets.  Bullets for a pistol. Did you use those during the wartime Uncle Jamil? Did you kill any infidels?  Did you ever kill any Unionists?

“Go to your mom son, your socks are wet you will catch a cold. Go change”

Enver left the room unwillingly. Jamil stared at the picture on the wall.

 Jamil became a member of the Commitee of Union and Progress when Patriot urged him. It was 1906. They were in Monastir Macedonia; and they were walking towards their destination on a rainy night. When they reached the corner; Omer the Patriot apologized and said he needed to blindfold him. Holding his arm he guided Jamil through the muddy streets. Upon arriving at their destination; he rang the door bell three times. Someone on the other side of the door said first, “Muin” then “Hilal” three times each. Patriot answered, by saying ‘Hilal’ three times “Muin” only once. Then he removed Jamil’s blindfold and Jamil saw three people in red gowns and black masks. There was a table and on it there was a book and a pistol. He heard a voice that he recognized. It was Eyub Sabri’s voice saying, “Have you decided to join the Commitee? Have you given this a lot of thought? Are you sure?”

Jamil said, “Yes”.

“Do you understand that if you do not follow the rules you will be executed?”

“Yes Sir, I understand the rules.”

He had to take an oath to be a member of the committee for life, thus making him member number: 9-2

If things turned out for the worse, he could have ended up in exile in a place like Fezzan, Taif or Yemen for life. At the time men who would take this road, would forget about getting married to Royal Princesses, being military envoy to important Capitals, or getting promoted to higher ranks. They would have to give up a bright future. But if they were successful; it would mean Freedom for the country. So what would this Freedom look like?  He imagined it as being able to do anything he wanted. But how would this be compatible with the current strict military rules?

Jamil reminded himself that they didn’t have to debate such details, because within just two years, by sending a couple of telegrams they achieved their goal. They brought Freedom to the country.

Jamil was still gazing at the picture on the wall. Nazmi died defending Edirne which was under siege. He didn’t have time to learn that their party was ruling the country now. They were controlling the vast Empire from Danube to Basra; from Sinop to Libya. Nazmi died when he was twenty six. He died hungry, sick and desperate...

Monastir-Bitola Macedonia 1911

* Unionist: Member of Committee of Union and Progress

Ittihat ve Terakki Cemiyeti uyesi...

From the Book The Tired Warrior

by KemalTahir

Transated by 

Elif Mat Erkmen