Some of Sertel’s most fascinating memories are from her time studying at Columbia University in New York City, staging fundraising events for the Turkish resistance, and her efforts at organizing and unionizing Turkish and Kurdish factory workers in New York City and Detroit
Period 2: In America
The First Fundraiser
Bad news kept arriving from the homeland. Newspapers reported the progress of the Greek armies and murders committed by Anzavur’s9 bands, hodjas loyal to the sultan and other reactionaries. At the society’s first meeting, I passed along this news and read aloud the letter I’d received. I talked about how we could help: from the USA, all we could really do was send money and old clothes. We decided to stage an event to raise money, inviting association leaders from other cities and all the workers in New York. |
At the fundraiser, we spoke about the atrocities committed by the Greeks and the sacrifices of the Anatolian people, be they men or women, young or old. We pointed out that the imperialist states were intent on dismantling and dividing the country. The assembled Anatolian sons, their hearts ablaze for many years with yearning for the homeland, showed such passion and concern for the cause that it would bring tears to one’s eyes. As if bidding at an auction, they engaged in a race of generosity and sacrifice. As far as I can remember, we raised $20,000 at that event.
The event also strengthened the bonds between the association in New York and workers in other cities. Zeki Bey, a delegate from the Detroit Solidarity Association, invited me to come and organize the workers there. Detroit had two societies: the Solidarity Association, founded by the Turks, and the Red Crescent Association, founded by the Kurds. I received invitations from both.
89 TN: Sertel is likely referring to Columbia University’s Teachers College.
TN: Ahmet Anzavur (d. 1921) was the commander who was dispatched to Anatolia by Sultan Vahdettin to counter the forces fighting the War of Independence.
TN: Ahmet Anzavur (d. 1921) was the commander who was dispatched to Anatolia by Sultan Vahdettin to counter the forces fighting the War of Independence.
When I got off the train in Detroit,I was greeted by a small crowd.After introductions were made, Zeki Bey pulled me aside.
‘Sabiha Hanım,’ he said, ‘we have a big problem. The Turks and the Kurds are quarrelling. The Kurds say, “We will host our sister from the homeland.” And the Turks say, “She is our sister as much as yours, so she will be our guest.” What should we do?’
‘There’s an easy way out,’ I said. ‘I won’t stay with you or with them. I’ll go to a hotel instead.’
Zeki Bey was a short, pudgy Anatolian. He was smart and knew the mindset of the people well. He balked at my suggestion.
‘Unthinkable,’ he said. ‘They’d regard that as a grave insult. They already fought over the issue at our previous meeting. To calm the commotion, one of our members suggested putting you up at a hotel. The Kurds wouldn’t hear of it. “You vile, shameless people,” they said. “You would dare let our sister from the homeland sleep at a hotel?” They raised hell!’
I thought about it for a minute. My objective here was to support the independence movement. So, I needed to go wherever I could raise more funds.
‘Tell me, then,’ I said to Zeki Bey,‘from which side can I expect to raise more money?’
‘From the Kurds,’ he said without hesitating. ‘Because they have the hardest jobs at the Ford factory, they earn and save more money than the Turks.’
‘Then I’ll stay with the Kurds. Leave it to me to break the news to the Turks.’
Having quarrelled the day before, the Turks and the Kurds welcoming me at the station stood in separate groups. Zeki Bey took me over to the Turks. I plunged in without introduction.
‘Brothers,’ I said, ‘I know what happened yesterday. I appeal to your conscience. Our brethren in Anatolia are being massacred; 90,000 orphans are languishing in the streets. They are hungry and have no roof over their heads. In such a crisis, we can’t be discussing with whom I’ll be staying. I implore you, don’t be offended or hurt; I am your guest no matter whose house I sleep in. Permit me to stay with the Red Crescent Association. It’s for the greater good of the homeland.’
The Turks accepted without raising any objections.
Rumi Efendi, the chairman of the Red Crescent Association, was a tall, hulking mountain of a man. His long moustache went all the way up to his ears. He introduced me to the other members, who were overjoyed, and then we got into cars and drove to his house.
Rumi Efendi lived in a modern two-storey house. His furniture, timeworn but clean, seemed oddly Asian in this contemporary setting. For lunch, they placed a gigantic round metal dining tray on the floor and arranged some cushions around it. Then they brought in a big tray of pilaf with meat. Everyone started eating with their hands. They’d brought some cutlery just for me, but I turned it down and joined them in eating out of the tray with my fingers. Clearly, the Americans, who claimed to have brought civilization to the colonies, had not extended this civilization to the immigrants living in their own country.
The meeting was scheduled for Sunday, so the workers took the day off and showed me around the Ford factory. It was a gargantuan building. Every minute, finished cars were lowered from suspended bridges. The labourers worked like robots, not even wasting a moment: the role of speed in production was such that even a second had its monetary value. The exploitation machine was in full steam as well. Foreign workers made half the money Americans made and still had difficulties finding jobs. And since they weren’t unionized, they were ruthlessly exploited by employers.
When we arrived at the steel furnace, we had a chance to witness this reality up close. The furnace was in a small room and encircled by glass. Workers ceaselessly fed the furnace with coal, and the molten steel flowed like a crimson flame. It was so hot in there that they said the devil’s own hellfire couldn’t be hotter. I was told that no workers except the Kurds could make it into this chamber. They would enter the furnace naked like wrestlers and take turns by the minute.
No one working under these harsh conditions belonged to a union. They received no social aid whatsoever. And since they were ill-informed, they saw nothing wrong with this state of affairs. When I tried to explain that they should join the unions, they all objected at once.
‘We don’t take part in strikes,’ they said. ‘Whenever there is a strike, the factory is surrounded by Ford’s private policemen and soldiers. Ford has a private army that he uses against the workers. We enter the factory and work under their control.’
I saw how the capitalists took advantage of these naive, hard-working people and their lack of knowledge and consciousness. They exploited them and used them as strike-breakers against their fellow labourers. But it was hard to make them understand the evil of this situation. An organization was needed and much work had to be done, I reasoned, for such an awareness to even become possible.
Next, there was a debate about which association would hold the first fundraiser. ‘We won’t go to the Turks,’ the Kurds said. ‘We’ll host the first meeting, and they can come to us if they want.’
To prevent a row over precedence and location, I made a proposal. ‘Neither you nor the Turks should host the meeting,’ I said. ‘We’ll rent out a hall and everyone can go there. That way, we won’t need to hold two separate meetings, either.’
The Kurds rejected this offer in one breath. The discussion went on for hours. They insisted that their association should meet first and stonewalled the matter, saying that the meeting would either be held by them or not at all. Finally, I ran out of breath from arguing with them. Clearly, Kurdish obstinacy could not be overcome.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow night, we’ll gather at the Red Crescent Association. If the Turks don’t come, we’ll hold a separate meeting for them at a later time and I’ll speak there as well.’
They accepted. The next morning, I sent for Zeki Bey. I told him about the previous night’s discussion and asked him to convey my greetings to the Solidarity Association. It was meaningless to start a quarrel between Turks and Kurds with the homeland in such a predicament, and I hoped they would understand my decision. Zeki Bey accepted my proposal, saying that since the main objective was to help the homeland, everyone else would be on board as well. The Turkish Solidarity Association would hold its own separate meeting.
The next evening, we gathered at the meeting hall of the Red Crescent Association. Most of those in attendance were labourers at the Ford factory, and almost all others were factory workers as well. Not a single one of them was trained in a profession. The hall was wide and long, and they’d set up a table for me at one end. Those who couldn’t find seats sat cross-legged on the floor.
Before I could begin talking, a commotion broke out. People started hurling abuse at each other across the hall. One of them jumped up and rushed at a young man sitting by the door.
‘Get out,’ he said, ‘I cannot be in the same room as you!’
‘No, you get out!
They started raining blows on each other. In a flash, they both drew knives from
their coat pockets. And before I had a chance to find out what they were fighting about, they were stabbing at each other.
I brought my fist down on the table with all my strength.
‘Is this how you show respect for your sister from the homeland?’ I asked.‘You didn’t want the Turks to host me, so I came to you. You insisted on holding the first meeting, so I met with you. And now you draw your knives to drive me out? Well, goodbye.’
All hell broke loose. They were screaming and yelling. Some tried to separate the brawlers while others clung to my hem, begging me to take the high road and stay.
I turned to the brawlers right away.
‘Throw away those knives,’ I said.
They let go of the knives as if compelled by a magnet.
‘Rumi Efendi, pick them up.’
The knives were gathered up. But the atmosphere was so tense that no good could come from giving a speech. First, we needed to clear the air.
‘Sabiha Hanım,’ he said, ‘we have a big problem. The Turks and the Kurds are quarrelling. The Kurds say, “We will host our sister from the homeland.” And the Turks say, “She is our sister as much as yours, so she will be our guest.” What should we do?’
‘There’s an easy way out,’ I said. ‘I won’t stay with you or with them. I’ll go to a hotel instead.’
Zeki Bey was a short, pudgy Anatolian. He was smart and knew the mindset of the people well. He balked at my suggestion.
‘Unthinkable,’ he said. ‘They’d regard that as a grave insult. They already fought over the issue at our previous meeting. To calm the commotion, one of our members suggested putting you up at a hotel. The Kurds wouldn’t hear of it. “You vile, shameless people,” they said. “You would dare let our sister from the homeland sleep at a hotel?” They raised hell!’
I thought about it for a minute. My objective here was to support the independence movement. So, I needed to go wherever I could raise more funds.
‘Tell me, then,’ I said to Zeki Bey,‘from which side can I expect to raise more money?’
‘From the Kurds,’ he said without hesitating. ‘Because they have the hardest jobs at the Ford factory, they earn and save more money than the Turks.’
‘Then I’ll stay with the Kurds. Leave it to me to break the news to the Turks.’
Having quarrelled the day before, the Turks and the Kurds welcoming me at the station stood in separate groups. Zeki Bey took me over to the Turks. I plunged in without introduction.
‘Brothers,’ I said, ‘I know what happened yesterday. I appeal to your conscience. Our brethren in Anatolia are being massacred; 90,000 orphans are languishing in the streets. They are hungry and have no roof over their heads. In such a crisis, we can’t be discussing with whom I’ll be staying. I implore you, don’t be offended or hurt; I am your guest no matter whose house I sleep in. Permit me to stay with the Red Crescent Association. It’s for the greater good of the homeland.’
The Turks accepted without raising any objections.
Rumi Efendi, the chairman of the Red Crescent Association, was a tall, hulking mountain of a man. His long moustache went all the way up to his ears. He introduced me to the other members, who were overjoyed, and then we got into cars and drove to his house.
Rumi Efendi lived in a modern two-storey house. His furniture, timeworn but clean, seemed oddly Asian in this contemporary setting. For lunch, they placed a gigantic round metal dining tray on the floor and arranged some cushions around it. Then they brought in a big tray of pilaf with meat. Everyone started eating with their hands. They’d brought some cutlery just for me, but I turned it down and joined them in eating out of the tray with my fingers. Clearly, the Americans, who claimed to have brought civilization to the colonies, had not extended this civilization to the immigrants living in their own country.
The meeting was scheduled for Sunday, so the workers took the day off and showed me around the Ford factory. It was a gargantuan building. Every minute, finished cars were lowered from suspended bridges. The labourers worked like robots, not even wasting a moment: the role of speed in production was such that even a second had its monetary value. The exploitation machine was in full steam as well. Foreign workers made half the money Americans made and still had difficulties finding jobs. And since they weren’t unionized, they were ruthlessly exploited by employers.
When we arrived at the steel furnace, we had a chance to witness this reality up close. The furnace was in a small room and encircled by glass. Workers ceaselessly fed the furnace with coal, and the molten steel flowed like a crimson flame. It was so hot in there that they said the devil’s own hellfire couldn’t be hotter. I was told that no workers except the Kurds could make it into this chamber. They would enter the furnace naked like wrestlers and take turns by the minute.
No one working under these harsh conditions belonged to a union. They received no social aid whatsoever. And since they were ill-informed, they saw nothing wrong with this state of affairs. When I tried to explain that they should join the unions, they all objected at once.
‘We don’t take part in strikes,’ they said. ‘Whenever there is a strike, the factory is surrounded by Ford’s private policemen and soldiers. Ford has a private army that he uses against the workers. We enter the factory and work under their control.’
I saw how the capitalists took advantage of these naive, hard-working people and their lack of knowledge and consciousness. They exploited them and used them as strike-breakers against their fellow labourers. But it was hard to make them understand the evil of this situation. An organization was needed and much work had to be done, I reasoned, for such an awareness to even become possible.
Next, there was a debate about which association would hold the first fundraiser. ‘We won’t go to the Turks,’ the Kurds said. ‘We’ll host the first meeting, and they can come to us if they want.’
To prevent a row over precedence and location, I made a proposal. ‘Neither you nor the Turks should host the meeting,’ I said. ‘We’ll rent out a hall and everyone can go there. That way, we won’t need to hold two separate meetings, either.’
The Kurds rejected this offer in one breath. The discussion went on for hours. They insisted that their association should meet first and stonewalled the matter, saying that the meeting would either be held by them or not at all. Finally, I ran out of breath from arguing with them. Clearly, Kurdish obstinacy could not be overcome.
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Tomorrow night, we’ll gather at the Red Crescent Association. If the Turks don’t come, we’ll hold a separate meeting for them at a later time and I’ll speak there as well.’
They accepted. The next morning, I sent for Zeki Bey. I told him about the previous night’s discussion and asked him to convey my greetings to the Solidarity Association. It was meaningless to start a quarrel between Turks and Kurds with the homeland in such a predicament, and I hoped they would understand my decision. Zeki Bey accepted my proposal, saying that since the main objective was to help the homeland, everyone else would be on board as well. The Turkish Solidarity Association would hold its own separate meeting.
The next evening, we gathered at the meeting hall of the Red Crescent Association. Most of those in attendance were labourers at the Ford factory, and almost all others were factory workers as well. Not a single one of them was trained in a profession. The hall was wide and long, and they’d set up a table for me at one end. Those who couldn’t find seats sat cross-legged on the floor.
Before I could begin talking, a commotion broke out. People started hurling abuse at each other across the hall. One of them jumped up and rushed at a young man sitting by the door.
‘Get out,’ he said, ‘I cannot be in the same room as you!’
‘No, you get out!
They started raining blows on each other. In a flash, they both drew knives from
their coat pockets. And before I had a chance to find out what they were fighting about, they were stabbing at each other.
I brought my fist down on the table with all my strength.
‘Is this how you show respect for your sister from the homeland?’ I asked.‘You didn’t want the Turks to host me, so I came to you. You insisted on holding the first meeting, so I met with you. And now you draw your knives to drive me out? Well, goodbye.’
All hell broke loose. They were screaming and yelling. Some tried to separate the brawlers while others clung to my hem, begging me to take the high road and stay.
I turned to the brawlers right away.
‘Throw away those knives,’ I said.
They let go of the knives as if compelled by a magnet.
‘Rumi Efendi, pick them up.’
The knives were gathered up. But the atmosphere was so tense that no good could come from giving a speech. First, we needed to clear the air.
‘Countrymen,’ I said. ‘I came here today to tell you about the wretched state of our homeland. Your brothers in the east were martyred on the fronts of Erzurum and Van,10 and their children were left on the streets, destitute and hungry. But I see it’s impossible for you to consider this matter today. You’re angry and resentful of each other. Let’s postpone this meeting until tomorrow.’
At once, shouts of ‘No!’ rang out. A dark-skinned, pockmarked old man shot up from among the assembly.
‘Sister,’ he said, ‘surely, your arrival is a good omen. Don’t mind their fighting. They have respect for you. Please, won’t you reconcile these two?’
The thought hadn’t occurred to me. The old man went on.
‘Mehmet is bitter at Derviş over a money affair,’ he said.‘They fight like this wherever they go. They both said they wouldn’t come if the other was here. But the Red Crescent decided it wouldn’t close its doors to anyone, and so they both got in. Please, won’t you reconcile them?’
I turned to the brawlers again.
‘If what the old man says is true,’ I said, ‘and you have any respect for me, you’ll embrace each other now.’
Mehmet and Derviş had been at each other’s throats for seven years, but that day, they kissed and embraced. And that was just the beginning. All those who’d quarrelled were brought to me in pairs, and it fell upon me to reconcile them all.
‘Sister,’ he said, ‘surely, your arrival is a good omen. Don’t mind their fighting. They have respect for you. Please, won’t you reconcile these two?’
The thought hadn’t occurred to me. The old man went on.
‘Mehmet is bitter at Derviş over a money affair,’ he said.‘They fight like this wherever they go. They both said they wouldn’t come if the other was here. But the Red Crescent decided it wouldn’t close its doors to anyone, and so they both got in. Please, won’t you reconcile them?’
I turned to the brawlers again.
‘If what the old man says is true,’ I said, ‘and you have any respect for me, you’ll embrace each other now.’
Mehmet and Derviş had been at each other’s throats for seven years, but that day, they kissed and embraced. And that was just the beginning. All those who’d quarrelled were brought to me in pairs, and it fell upon me to reconcile them all.
10 TN: It is notable that in addressing a Kurdish audience, Sertel highlights the conditions in areas heavily populated by Kurds.
Finally, the atmosphere eased, and I was able to address the real issue. They listened to my words in shock and dismay, and they wept openly. It was astounding to see these towering men cry. I could only assume that my words had conjured up visions of their villages, mothers and children, as well as places and loved ones they hadn’t seen in years.
After talking about the homeland, I addressed their own situation. I brought up the dreadful conditions in which they lived, scattered across the big cities of this boundless country, and told them this was due to their lack of organization. I stressed that all workers, whether Turkish, Kurdish or Albanian, needed to unite and join the unions. I said that even if the Red Crescent and the Solidarity Association remained separate, they had to join forces to defend workers’ rights against their bosses.
I pointed out that strike-breaking was against their own interests. I proposed that the Red Crescent Association form a commission to deal with this matter, and that it cooperate with a similar commission from the Solidarity Association.
Rumi Efendi, the chairman, asked that workers’ issues be discussed in a separate meeting. He proposed that today’s meeting continue with a fundraiser for the homeland, the children and Mustafa Kemal’s soldiers. This met with great enthusiasm, and the ensuing fundraiser became a true race of chivalry and largesse. If one of them gave $50, the other, not to be outdone, donated $75. We ended up collecting over $50,000. And later, we raised nearly as much from the Turks’ Solidarity Asociation as well.
After talking about the homeland, I addressed their own situation. I brought up the dreadful conditions in which they lived, scattered across the big cities of this boundless country, and told them this was due to their lack of organization. I stressed that all workers, whether Turkish, Kurdish or Albanian, needed to unite and join the unions. I said that even if the Red Crescent and the Solidarity Association remained separate, they had to join forces to defend workers’ rights against their bosses.
I pointed out that strike-breaking was against their own interests. I proposed that the Red Crescent Association form a commission to deal with this matter, and that it cooperate with a similar commission from the Solidarity Association.
Rumi Efendi, the chairman, asked that workers’ issues be discussed in a separate meeting. He proposed that today’s meeting continue with a fundraiser for the homeland, the children and Mustafa Kemal’s soldiers. This met with great enthusiasm, and the ensuing fundraiser became a true race of chivalry and largesse. If one of them gave $50, the other, not to be outdone, donated $75. We ended up collecting over $50,000. And later, we raised nearly as much from the Turks’ Solidarity Asociation as well.