The Fatwa Business

The sun was rising. The stores were not yet open. There were only a couple of men in the street who were going to mosque for the morning prayers. The car was prepared to take General Yusuf Izzed to Ankara. Lieutenant Farouk was supposed to take two Sergeants and two Corporals with him. They had Mouser guns as well as one machine gun. Selahaddin adjusted his colpack and his holster. He was holding Mustafa Kemal Pasha’s telegram. He knocked on the door. The Commander was sleeping inside and Selahaddin didn’t wait for him to say ‘Yes’ before entering the room.

Jamil thought he should wait outside. He didn’t hear anything. It was taking a long time. Selahaddin must be telling the Commander that Bekir Sami was in charge so he didn’t need to call anyone else for the Command. The door opened exactly thirteen minutes later. General Yusuf Izzet’s face was stern. He didn’t return Jamil’s salute.

Yesil Camii Tiles

Jamil thought he must have shaved with cold water. He smiled. When Pasha descended the stairs, he went to look out of the window. The troops were ready to salute the Commander. They raised their rifles and the trumpet was blown. Lieutenant Farouk was waiting by the car. He introduced himself to the Commander. The General didn’t look at him and took the front seat by the driver.

Selahaddin gave the Commander’s luggage to his aide and came back. It was an old car and made noise when they start rolling. The Bursa plains were covered with fog and the town seemed to still be sleeping. Jamil punched Selahaddin’s shoulder with joy. “We’ve nailed it, Salah! Well done!”

“I am not so sure, Captain!”

“What’s the matter?”

“We have just handled one problem. I don’t think Bursa is on our side.” Jamil started to go towards the Telegram Office.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Selahaddin asked.

“I will send a telegram to Ankara to let them know the cargo will soon arrive! You can set free the Officers. I will meet you and Osman at the Division Base. Lieutenant Murat will be responsible here for now.” He walked away and turned. “Tell them to prepare breakfast for us. We can’t handle all the problems in one day. We will take them one at a time.”

It rained for two nights. The Bursa plain looked very green. There were roads and rivers stretching on this endless green scenery like a ship leaving behind marks on the sea.

Jamil put his jacket on the chair. He was at the coffee-house in the Yesil district. There were no other customers even though it was getting close to noon. He thought there were no customers anywhere in Bursa. It seemed the horses and carriages were the only things the people wanted to purchase.

He was sitting there for an hour now. He was watching the cars and caravans of camels, horses and the other animals passing by. He thought about trying to stop them from leaving the City. However, he worried that would be the last straw for the people. When people realized that danger was approaching, the rich left the city first; then the middle class left in great numbers. Bursa seemed as if she didn’t mind this; she was used to being abandoned. She wasn’t sad. She wasn’t hurt. The silk, the dried fruit, and the olives were all stored safely out of city in hiding places. When people heard about Yusuf Izzed Pasha’s departure to Ankara, the affluent gathered their family, their possessions, valuable carpets, and silk, and left the city for Istanbul.

There were a lot of soldiers and militia coming to Bursa from the regions that Anzavour claimed. Osman the Butcher’s regiment in Kirmasti was dismantled and his men came to Bursa, as well, increasing the number of total soldiers and militia in the city.

Since they ambushed the Army Headquarters, Jamil was acting as a Governor and Martial Law Commander in the City. The Gendarmerie and the Police were reporting to him; even though there were no official decisions in both cases. Jamil was responsible for the law and order of the city. For this reason he had to wake up in the middle of the night and fight with the criminals many nights.

One night five drunkards were brought in. These were the people who were spoiled by the Unionists and the notables for many years. They were going after the war widows and after having their fun with them were selling the poor women to the brothels. When they came to the Base, they were completely drunk. They were either not conscious enough to realize where they were or they didn’t care. When the police came to the help of the screaming women they resisted and pulled their guns out. After the search it was found that they had various knives and pistols. They had lots of ammunition and considerable amounts of marijuana and opium in their possession. The blond one was the nephew of the famous silk merchant Haji Muhsin and he was very overbearing. He said to Jamil, “if you are the Jehennem I am the river that flows right in the middle of Jehennem…I am tougher than you. I don’t care if you are Hell itself!”

Colonel Osman was awoken by the cries of the inmates while they were being beaten and he suggested to Jamil, “Brother, just hang them, and we will be done with them.” Jamil smiled sadly.

Jamil got into the habit of leaving the Army Base with the first lights of the sun and patrolling the city and come to this coffee-house at this time to rest; so that he didn’t have to face all the bearded folks who would come to the Base and beg them to release the prisoners.

There were few people today on the streets. They were walking with their heads bowed. The men looked like they were doing something wrong and did not wish to be seen by anybody. They were avoiding eye contact.

He put another line in his cigarette package. It was the thirteenth camel caravan that had passed by in the last hour. He pushed the empty cup away and looked towards the kitchen; even though he wanted some more tea, he was timid to ask for a refill. The owner was reluctant to serve; he wasn’t coming by to ask if Jamil wished for anything else.

Jamil was not getting enough sleep; he was tired. He hadn’t had anything to eat; he was hungry. He touched the pocket of his jacket; he was even too tired to get his child’s picture out to look at.

He was depressed and he realized that it was not only from missing his wife and son, but also because of having to face so many defeats. It was hard to be a member of the Army that was constantly defeated since the Turco-Italian War in Libya. Jamil and his friends started as freedom fighters and climbed the ranks. He thought the people didn’t respect the Officers any more. It was apparent that they didn’t care when they turned their faces away while the Officers were talking to them. The Officers were getting as much respect as the gamblers and fraudulent businessmen. It didn’t matter if the Officer was as nice as the late Colonel Rahmi or as stern as Osman the Butcher, who kept hanging the criminals. Colonel Rahmi’s Regiment was defeated after two days of fighting; Osman’s were broken up without even fighting. The Division Commander spent his time in his room, while the higher ranking Officers were walking with their heads bowed.

A four men security team was passing by and their leader saluted Jamil.  Jamil nodded his head; he was not saluting anybody formally anymore.

Blücher

It was scorching hot. The heat was rising from the plains. The dusty air reminded him of the war zones. He suddenly remembered the name of the French Marshall; it was Grouchy. The Prussian army was led by Blucher. When Napoleon was fighting against Wellington in the Battle of Waterloo, he was expecting the arrival of the Grouchy’s Cavalry. When Napoleon saw the approaching army, he thought it was Grouchy and he was happy but his joy didn’t last long; soon he realized it was Field Marshall Blucher’s troops. Maybe Grouchy wasn’t good enough; maybe he was knowingly helping the other side. In any case, he failed to stop Blucher’s advance and therefore failed to help Napoleon. His Cavalry force of forty thousand men surrendered to the enemy, near Paris, without even engaging in war.

Emmanuel de Grouchy

Jamil remembered the history lectures he attended at Kuleli Military High School. Now he realized why he was thinking of Marshal Grouchy, whom he never liked. Jamil looked first to the west, then to the east.

Anzavour will come from the west; he had broken the 172th Division earlier. The 24th Regiment was positioned to the North East of the city. Their three thousand infantry men were expected to enter the city. He heard Anzavour had ten thousand men, infantry and cavalry altogether. He had machine guns; he even had cannon. They had only three thousand two hundred soldiers. Jamil thought whatever the numbers; they had to win the battle against Anzavour.

As he was thinking about the upcoming battle, he heard horsemen approaching. He wondered if there were one or two horses climbing up the hill. Then he realized the men who were coming might be messengers from the base who were looking for him. He didn’t like that thought.

He was getting tired of both Osman the Butcher and Major Nuri. Nuri was getting better but he was still having difficulty walking and still using his cane. It was more of a habit now. Osman was smoking water pipe constantly and talking about hanging people. Osman was driving Jamil mad and Nuri made him feel sad all the time.

Jamil saw the two horsemen climbing up the hill and approaching towards the coffee house without hesitation. The first one dismounted and rapped the reins around the horse’s neck. He was walking with big steps. Jamil recognized him.

“Oh! Farouk! Is that you? You came back so quickly!”

“Captain, I haven’t gone all the way to Ankara. I returned half way from Eskishehir.”

“You returned from Eskishehir? Come have a seat.”

“I looked for you at the base and they told me you were here.”

“Which route did you take?”

“I came via Inegol.”

“Where is the car?”

“I haven’t driven here. Our car got stuck by the Kazanji slope; luckily I run into two Gendarmerie soldiers who were recruiting from the surrounding villages. I took one of their horses.”

“How did the General go to Ankara? Did he take the train? It is good to see you return. Do you have any news of the Infantry that was supposed to come here?”

“The Regiment…” Lieutenant Farouk didn’t meet his gaze he looked  away to the road.

“Yes, the Regiment…What’s wrong?”

“They were supposed to come; I even saw the 3^rd Batallion myself. They were a thousand men strong…”

“What happened?”

“They came to Bilejik and were on their way to Bursa. They spent the night somewhere halfway to Bursa but the next morning when the Officers woke up, there was nobody around. Even their batmen deserted the army!”

“That’s terrible! We shouldn’t let anyone hear that. It will break the morale of the troops. If they weren’t able to avoid desertions, they shouldn’t be even sending the troops in the first place. Have you told this to the Commander?”

“Yes, I told him.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing, he said things happen in times like this.”

Jamil was looking at the plains. Farouk asked, “What do you think of Ethem?”

“What do you mean?”

“I am asking, in general, what do you think about him?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I heard something in Bilejik. The troops were given to his command and he was going to take Anzavour on.”

“I don’t think so. Maybe you are mistaken. Ethem doesn’t have enough men to fight Anzavour.”

“It is not only his men. He has gathered troops from other Battalions, as well as other militia.”

“That’s nonsense! When we have Colonel Shefik and Kazim here, why was Ethem given the duty? He is an outlaw!”

“Well, that’s what I heard!”

Jamil put his two fingers on his lower lip and thought for a while. “Yes! What kind of a man is Ethem? I don’t know much about him. I don’t know much about myself anymore either. If you were to ask me about Jehennem right now; I would give you the same answer. I don’t know much about him.” He looked away. He was pulling on his moustache again. His stern face changed, he looked like an orphan about to cry. He talked to himself, “Why would they abandon the army? In the middle of the night…The whole Batallion.”

“Sir, do you know about the Government Declaration and the Fatwa?”

“Which Government are you talking about? Which Declaration is that?”

“The Damad Ferid Government and the Fatwa of Sheikh el Islam.”

“No I haven’t seen that. I think I heard about it yesterday, though. I didn’t believe it.  I thought it was just Anzavour’s lies. What was it all about?”

The Lieutenant took a paper out of his pocket. “Here, read it. There are a couple of copies at the Division Base. The Commander has sent this copy to you.”

Jamil took the paper with the tips of his fingers as if it was dirty. There was the Sultan’s emblem on top. It said:

“Caliph’s Firman:

This is to be read to all Muslims. Read this to all the illiterates if you are able to read. If you don’t obey the orders you will sin.”

The Sultan was saying that Salih has resigned and Ferid is appointed to be Sadrazam. Durrizade Abdullah is the new Sheikh el Islam. The rest was unclear. It said something about Nationalists. ‘Just as the political situation was turning better the Nationalists put the country in danger again. The Sultan wasn’t taking hard measures now but he would take more serious steps…’and so on. Jamil exclaimed, “Oh, my Lord! I am going to lose my mind!” He laughed nervously. As he was about to continue reading, he heard Lieutenant Farouk remark, “Who are they?”

Farouk looked at the two men approaching. He recognized Colonel Osman. He was coming with a small framed man. Then he recognized him. “Captain, it is Dr.Munir! He is coming towards us.”

Jamil looked for a place to hide the papers. He thought he better not show his friends the fatwa and discourage them. He put the papers in his pocket and stood up. Dr. Munir saw them and came faster; Jamil went and hugged him. Colonel Osman was shouting, “Where have you been, Jehennem? We have been looking for you the entire morning.”

“Doctor! What a surprise!” He couldn’t have been happier if he saw his newborn son Omer at that moment. “How did you find us? Why didn’t you call ahead?”

“There wasn’t any time to call. I just came.”

“What news do you have from Istanbul? How is Omer the Patriot? How is Pasha?”

“Patriot is in exile at Malta Island. Halil Pasha escaped from the Bekiraga Division. I wrote to Shevki. Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, I haven’t heard any news from Istanbul. Please, take a seat! Did you take the Bandirma route? Have you met Osman before?”

Colonel Osman said proudly, “We know each other from Yemen. We had a good friendship there. I was more interested in the Yemeni women while Munir and Ismet were listening to Gavour songs on the phonograph that they had bought from a French engineer.”

“Don’t call that music Gavour songs, you idiot. We were listening to Beethoven, Bach and Wagner’s concertos and symphonies.”

“You may call them whatever you wish. Music is music. I had better things to do…”

Dr.Munir said to Jamil, “Don’t believe him, Jamil. He wasn’t friends with any Yemeni woman. All he did was spend time with those Yemeni Sheikhs in dark places chewing gat…”

“What is gat?”

“It is like marijuana…something like that. A disgusting habit. They chew that weed and they relax, they have saliva built up and they spit. They feel more relaxed and they chew some more.”

“Why on earth do they do that?”

“They get high. This butcher here is violent because I suspect there is a problem with his manhood!”

“You idiot! What are you talking about? All the Yemeni women liked me; they even followed me to here. I think that Greek Captain should have beaten you in Bandirma!”

Jamil had never liked this kind of talking. He asked Dr. Munir, “What happened with the Greek Captain?”

“We are just joking. It is nothing.”

Osman laughed, “It wasn’t a joke. The man was almost going to kill you. What were you thinking when you took the position of physician of Public Health in Bandirma? Were you going to make some money in all this mess? You are a weird doctor…How did you think you could actually take the Sultan’s Fatwa away from the people?”

Jamil looked around and whispered, “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you know about the Fatwa that was issued three days ago? Osman was yelling, “We are all in danger! The reactionaries said Muslims can kill the Nationalists and take our possessions. How come you didn’t hear?  It is really serious. If those papers are genuine, that means we are in real danger!” Osman took some papers out from his pocket and put them on the table angrily like a gambler putting down his cards, “Read them Jamil. Read them carefully and say your last prayers!”

Jamil took a look at the fatwa. He pretended to see it for the first time and found the place where he had stopped reading earlier. As he was trying to figure out the meaning of one Arabic word that he had read, Osman started to talk again, “I don’t know about you Doctor; but I think one small Batallion like Suleyman Askeri’s “Osmancik” will be enough to go ambush the brothel named Istanbul! I would go circle Bab-i Ali and arrest all the fools in Sublime Port and hang them starting with Damad Ferid, then Durrizade Abdullah and all the others!”

Suleyman Askeri

“Hey, Osman! We have ended up in this mess because of all the violence and hanging that you guys have accomplished!” Munir interrupted.

“Don’t be a wimp, Doctor! We should all hang at least a division daily until all is clear.”

Jamil smiled sadly. He tried not to look at Lieutenant Farouk. He shuffled the papers and started reading instead.

The Sultan warned that the uprising in Anatolia would put the country in danger, “God forbid”. The rebels should be punished to the full extent of the Law. The innocent subjects who were deceived by the Nationalists could be forgiven. The Sultan wanted Law and Order in his Country and asked his people to show solidarity with him so that the whole world could see.

Jamil checked his pockets for his package of cigarettes. Osman said, “Hey, Munir! Why are you all against capital punishment? If we don’t hang them; you doctors find ways to kill people with your own methods anyway! Are you worried that you will have fewer patients? We hang them so everybody can see. Otherwise we can’t end the corruption. Wehip Pasha used to tease me for this strict approach but it was necessary. If we hadn’t executed the outlaws and the bandits, we couldn’t have succeeded in securing the Eastern Front all the way to the Bolsheviks. Osman elbowed Jamil who was preoccupied. Jamil smiled while he was still buried in his thoughts. Osman asked, “Am I right, Jamil?”

“On what subject Colonel?”

“I am talking about the capital punishment. You have to punish the criminals you can convict so others won’t dare to commit a crime. That’s what the Ottoman Sultans did! See, in his Firman, the Sultan uses the word ‘Hang’ as well!”

Sultan Vahidettin

The Sultan was also suggesting that we should be having friendly and warm relations with the Allies. We should aim for good relations so that the Peace Agreement can be signed quickly and with the conditions that are in our favour. At the end of his Firman the Sultan wished Godspeed.

Munir asked, “What is so amusing Jamil?”

“Nothing, I remembered Shaban; he used to say...”

“Who is Shaban?”

“He is my batman…”

“What did he say?”

“When things got confusing he would say, ‘I don’t know what to say, Sir! Both parties want God’s help!”

“So?”

“The Sultan prays for God’s help. We all need that.”

Dr. Munir turned his head, he didn’t like this.  Colonel Osman called the waiter, this time he came running. He was intimidated by Osman’s loud voice. “Get me water pipe! Izmir style.”

Jamil ordered tea.

The Sultan’s decree included a declaration of Damad Ferid Pasha Government as well. The declaration summarized how we entered the war, why we were defeated, the Truce Agreement and its signatories. Then it went on about the collapse of the empire and warned about the dangerous results of the Anatolian Revolt against the Government. They were accusing “some people” for founding the National Organization for their own personal gain.

“These are dangerous times, Doctor; if we don’t hang them they will hang us!”

“Damn it! I get tired of this hanging business!”

“What do you say about the Firman? What do you say about the Sheikh el Islam’s Fatwa? You should be more careful now. You have Government orders against you! If I want to I can just take out my pistol and kill you right here and no one will ask me why I shot you.”

“What if someone kills you? Aren’t you in the same situation as me?”

“I am in the exact same situation as you. If you are quick you could shoot me first and yell, “God Save the Sultan”; then you could get away with it. Too bad for me!”

Osman looked far away to the plains. His demeanour was as if he was offering something very valuable for free.

Dr.Munir asked Jamil, “Are you done reading?”

“No…This is all nonsense… They are all fools!”

“It is like a joke. Isn’t it?”

Jamil continued reading the Government Declaration. Damad Ferid was saying, “Because of the National Forces we have to face tougher conditions in the Peace Agreement. The Occupation of Istanbul is a direct result of Nationalist activities. The Greek invasion of Izmir is for the same reason. The Nationalists are murdering people, collecting money from the citizens saying that they are saving the country. They are torturing people who are against them and they are opening fire on the villages and towns. This is against our religion. A Fatwa is already issued against the Nationalists’ activities. The citizens were asked to arrest the Nationalists or kill them, wherever they are seen.”

Osman said, “I warned Talat years ago, before the March 31st Incident. I told him we have to finish off those people. All I asked from Talat was to agree; he didn’t need to do anything. I asked him to pretend he was sick and stay in bed several days; pretend he didn’t know anything. Then we could easily kill the likes of Prince Sabahaddin and Sabri; while we were at it Abdul Hamid and Dervish Vahdeti, as well! The world would be a better place that way! Then Talat could run the country without opposition. He didn’t listen to me! I ask you, what is ‘opposition’? Why do we even need that? All we need is ‘One nation, One Country and Freedom!’ This opposition concept is not for me! It is for Westerners! We have better methods. We kill them all.”

Jamil continued reading. It was the part about Abdullah’s Fatwa:

“Some bad people have gathered and chosen themselves a leader. They are organizing to tax the citizens and they are terrorizing the villages. All for their own benefit. They are killing innocent Muslims. They are replacing the religious authorities in the cities with their own men. They are revolting against the Sultan and if they are not going to obey the orders they will be executed. The Muslims are asked to stop the Nationalists…”

Jamil put the papers down; he was confused. He said, “They must be crazy!”

Dr. Munir said, “Don’t worry, Jamil. The situation is already so complicated, the Fatwa doesn’t mean anything. Don’t forget there are turban clan in all the cities. We will get our own Fatwa!”

Osman laughed out loud. Jamil asked, “Is that even possible?”

“Yes it is possible. If the Fatwa is so important, we will have our own Fatwa!”

“Two Fatwa’s on the same subject contradicting one another!”

“Yes, it is for the good of our people. The people will start thinking. We’ve had enough of the Fatwa’s for centuries. It is time to get rid of them.”

Osman was enjoying his water pipe, he said, “It is all because of that Greek Captain…”

He was mentioning the Greek Captain for the second time. Jamil asked, “What about him? Was there any problem with the Captain because of the Fatwa?”

Dr.Munir said, “Hmm…we had some problems”

Osman said, “Tell the story, Munir! Were you the first Nationalist to be executed?”

“Almost! They told me the position of physician for Public Health Service was vacant in Bandirma. I decided to apply because I wanted to see the situation in Bandirma and the surrounding areas myself. As soon as we reached Bandirma, all hell broke loose. Anzavour stopped the train coming from Balikesir. He was searching Susurluk area for the Nationalists. He arrested everyone who looked educated; they assumed all the educated people were already on the Nationalist side.”

Osman said sarcastically, “So you were scared?”

Bandirma

Munir continued, “Don’t joke with me! Anyway, yesterday morning I saw some men distributing flyers. I got one. I was surprised to see that it was the Sheik al Islam’s Fatwa. I was dumbstruck! Then I noticed there was a Greek ship at the Bandirma Harbour; its cargo was bags of paper. I thought of a solution; I got my stick and started beating the men who were distributing the Fatwa. I collected them all. I called some porters and told them to carry the bags. They were surprised and didn’t have the nerve to say anything. However, the others called for help and they arrested me. The Greek Captain came and spoke to me in Greek. I started speaking to him in all the languages but Greek. He didn’t know any other language. All the Greeks of Bandirma came to the Harbour to see what was going on. I think the Greek Officer wanted to impress the crowd. As I was switching to German from Spanish, two men held me by my arms and my feet were in the air.”

“What does that mean? Were they going to hang you?”

Osman laughed. Munir continued his story, “No, not like that! They suspended me in the air. I was hanging from the crane. I thought I was going to die. He was taking me higher and higher. I was moving like a lobster in a trap.”

Bandirma

Jamil listened and said, “Damn It! Is that true?”

“I was moving my arms and legs aimlessly. I was feeling dizzy, I was scared. If that drunken seaman let it go then I would have fallen from 20 meters. I was screaming and the Greeks were yelling, ‘Kato! Kato!” They meant ‘Kill’. The local Greeks were yelling, ‘Mayna…Mayna, Palikarya’.” The drunken seaman was joyfully playing with me. He was taking me to great heights and letting go then stopping so close to the ground. I could have died. Thank God, the Commander of the British Warship saw me and he sent a sergeant over. Then the Greeks let me go down. And I found myself in front of the British Sergeant. My knees gave way, I couldn’t stand up. The good Sergeant helped me to stand up.”

“Damn it! Those unruly Greeks!”

“The sergeant took me to the torpedo boat. I don’t know what the Greek Officer told him but I talked nonstop without taking a breath.”

“What did you tell the British Commander?”

“I told him that was the Sheik al Islam’s Fatwa. It was a very important document for Muslims. We can’t accept the Holy Fatwa to arrive by a Greek ship. We can’t accept it to be touched and distributed by the non-Muslims. It was totally unacceptable to put the Holy Fatwa in bags like this and so on. We can’t let the papers drop to the ground and get dirty like an ordinary flyer.”

“Then what happened?”

“I told them that the Muslims around the world will be saddened to hear that the Sheik al Islam Fatwa was in the hands of the Greeks. The British Commander took this very seriously and yelled at the Greek Captain for mistreating the holy document. He was very angry; the Greek Captain jumped off the torpedo boat and hurried to the harbour with lightning speed! I put on my Fez and went see the Muftu. I recited some ayahs from the Holy Quran and talked about some hadiths as well. I start saying ‘Euzubillah’ and continued explaining my views. Muftu thought that the situation was pretty serious, as well. Anyway, we brought the bags into the Muftu’s Office and locked them up. So, you see, the Fatwa papers that were sent to Bandirma to be distributed to the people are now locked in the basement of Muftu’s Office. I was going to stay in Bandirma; however, some friends warned me that I shouldn’t stay there long since this could all backfire. They said it was not possible to find the fools from each nation all together like that. The English, the Greeks, the Turks and the Circassian people, they were all fooled. I thought I better get going since people might start laughing at me after the crane incident. I took a sailboat to Mudanya and reached Bursa before dawn.”

“Too bad the Greek Captain didn’t really let the rope go”, Osman teased him.

Jamil asked Munir, “Don’t you think the Fatwas carry some weight, Doctor?”

“It depends on who you are talking to. You know some people will prove to be real friends to us and some will be real enemies. These are dangerous times.”

“What about the undecided?”

“They don’t carry any weight in times like this.”

Osman laughed then his mood turned serious. He asked Jamil, “Did you get any news from the Troops that are coming to Bursa?”

Jamil thought about something. Osman had always kept his horse saddled; he was always ready to go. Jamil was sure he wouldn’t stay with them if things became dangerous around here and Osman didn’t even bother to pretend otherwise.

Jamil didn’t know whether it would be wise to tell him that the soldiers had deserted already. Before he could answer a messenger arrived. The Commander was summoning Jamil, so he took the opportunity to leave the conversation and he asked Munir to come along by saying that he would show him his room.

Ottoman Calligraphy Bursa Ulucami

The Reluctant Warrior

by Kemal Tahir

Translated by Elif Mat