Lady Cunnington-Smythe and I are soon to head once again to the mysterious East – land of the dreaded Turk.   (Of course you, her dearest friends, tend to use the informal ‘Doc’ in preference to her actual name when referring to my wife. However in order to prevent confusion to the reader I will use her full title in all susequent posts).

In 2013 we were in Istanbul and Gallipoli for 4 weeks – it was a time of great unrest. The Erdogen government announced that they were acquiring a public space – Taksim Square, in order to allow developers to build an Ottoman-themed shopping centre.  Erdogen’s son was an interested party of course. The forced removal of the protest site led to widespread unrest, a number of deaths, and both of us getting tear-gassed in a locked railway station.  My children have often retold the story of how I carried their swooning mother in my arms through the lines of riot police and up seventy-two steep, winding stairs to the relative safety of our apartment. All those years of calisthenics in readiness for a moment such as this!

The response from the locals to the police actions was immediate – and an object lesson in courage, persistence and improvisation.  When peaceful protests were halted one day, they returned the next. When the injured and the doctors were taken from hospitals and arrested, they set up clinics in apartments.  When mobile phones were jammed – they communicated by banging saucepans and blowing whistles.  And when gas masks sold out – they made their own.  

 

We developed a deep admiration for all the locals we had contact with during our stay – their courage, their commitment, and especially their hospitality.  We are looking forward to visiting in more peaceful, less gas-filled times.  

Having experienced this first-hand we also understand why Churchill’s plans to take Turkey out of the war were a Hankey Banister fog fantasy. No Turk we met was ever going to surrender – not the police, not the politicians and not the protesters.
The poor Anzacs never stood a chance.

Enough from me Farquar – we have a plane to catch so I’d better let you go.

F C-S