Medien, Naher Osten, Türkei, Osmanisches Reich, Islam, Orientalistik
Der Inhaber des lynxx-Blogs hat freundlicherweise Inhalte seines Blogs Geschichte-Wissen zur Verfügung gestellt. Wir danken an dieser Stelle für diese großzügige Hilfe sehr und wünschen dem geneigten Leser bei der Lektüre viel Freude.
Ich hatte hier schon einen kleinen Einblick in die Gründungsjahre der jungen türkischen Republik gegeben:
Hier folgt nun der 2. Teil. Immerhin begegnet man entweder persönlich oder über den Medien immer wieder mal türkischen Nachnamen, oder hat gar selber einen, und Namensforschung ist bei deutschen Namen sogar in den Massenmedien außerordentlich populär. Daher ist es vielleicht von Interesse, wie der eigene Nachname zustande kam, oder der Nachname des Nachbarn, Kollegen, Freundes.
Hier habe ich mal eine Stelle in der Literatur gefunden, die etwas genauer auf das Prozedere der Namensvergabe eingeht, auf Probleme dabei, und darauf, welche Gruppen schon vor der Namensreform eine Art Nachnamen besaßen:
(…) Before the adoption of of?cial “Turkish” surnames some years after the declaration of the Turkish Republic, patronyms of the type described were very common in the coastal districts that had comprised the old province of Trabzon, all the way from Batum to Ordu. Probably most men (but not any women) identi?ed themselves with a patronym that signi?ed their membership in a patronymic group. The prevalence of patronyms as well as the salience of patronymic groups was a regional peculiarity. In other parts of rural Turkey, groups of agnatically related males often designated themselves by a nickname, but they did not consistently take the form of a patronym. Correspondingly, the nick-names for descent groups, so common elsewhere in rural Turkey, did not have their counterparts in most of the eastern coastal districts of the old province of Trabzon. This was an odd contrast that had never received any attention but that seemed signi?cant, given my interest in local variation and diversity. I began to consider the patronymic group as a local social formation more or less distinctive of the eastern Black Sea coast without any exact equivalent in other parts of the country. There was other evidence that this might be the case. (…)
(…) The Name Law of 1934 required every citizen to adopt an of?cial surname. It was at this time that the man who had been Mustafa Kemal became Kemal Atatürk. Similarly, all the citizens in the district of Of [in der Provinz Trabzon] also chose new surnames. At this point the correction of a common misunderstanding is required.
It has been observed that “the Turks, like most other Muslim peoples, were not in the habit of using family names.” Surnames were indeed exceptional, although not unknown, in many parts of the country. However, there were appellations that resembled surnames in the rural areas of much of Anatolia. It was commonly the case that a collection of agnatically related households in a village might designate themselves by a collective name. So household or family groupings sometimes chose surnames that were derived from these lineage or tribal names. But they more typically chose a new surname from lists of of?cially approved surnames, since the lineage or tribal appellations were not always understood to refer to a familyline.
Otherwise, it is not at all accurate to say that the Turks were not in the habit of using what could be regarded as surnames. Everywhere in the districts of Anatolia, from the seventeenth century forward, if not earlier, there were individuals who were designated by reference to the name of their family line. This was especially the case in the eastern coastal districts, where names of family lines were a matter of paramount signi?cance. As I have already pointed out in chapter 1, the names of family lines, whether in the “o?lu” or the “zade” form, were used, both of?cially and nonof?cially, to refer to the principal ?gures of the old state society. Unlike the lineage or tribal names elsewhere in rural Anatolia, these patronymics did not mark a person as a country bumpkin. Instead, they con?rmed standing and position in the imperial system; hence, many individuals were loath to surrender them.
Consequently, the old patronymics commonly, although not invariably, became the basis for the new surnames, simply by eliding the suf?x. In the district of Of, for example, Selimo?lu became Selim, Murado?lu became Murad, while Tellio?lu became Öztel, Bekta?o?lu became Bekta?, ?isiko?lu became ?i?ik, and Abdiko?lu became Abdik.
The application of the Name Law of 1934 is therefore of utmost interest as an indicator of the transition from the old republic to the new republic.
As the deadline for selecting surnames approached (January 1, 1935), there were disagreements, even heated quarrels, among the members of some large family groupings. As we have already seen, these conglomerations of hundreds of households were comprised of a variety of sets (tak?mlar), and each set was the potential basis for a faction. The members of different sets were sometimes tempted to formalize these latent cleavages, designating themselves by distinctive surnames. Concerned that such disputes might actually lead to civil disorders, the district of?cer is said to have taken steps to insure that the members of large family groupings all agreed to adopt the same surname. In one instance, it is recalled, he went to the length of summoning all the elders (büyükler) of the Tellio?lu, a large family grouping in the vicinity of the sub-district center. They had been quarreling about the adoption of a surname, and the sets were on the brink of splitting into different groupings. The district of?cer told the elders they were the most numerous family in the area and should stay together. He then informed them that he would himself choose their new surname by preserving in some way their old family name. There upon he dubbed them with the new surname “Öztel.” So in this instance, a district of?cer, who is recalled as an ardent Kemalist, arranged for the continuation of the legacy of aghas and agha-families. He had done so as a practical measure of preserving the working relationship of the new state system with the old state society. He was a revolutionary in principle, but a conservative in practice.
However, in still another instance, a leading individual from a large family grouping speci?cally chose to disassociate himself from his agnatic relatives. After January1, 1935, Mehmet Selimo?lu became Mehmet Say?n, designating himself by a surname that does not seem to have been adopted by any other member of his patronymic group. The name he chose was a neologism, a “New Turkish” creation of the language reform that meant “esteemed” or “respected.” At the same time, most of the other members of the family line had adopted the of?cial surname of “Selim,” thereby retaining a semantic hold on their old name, hence also a hold on its eminence.
Mehmet Say?n had chosen a surname that at the same time asserted his attachment to the program of reforms and his detachment from the other members of his family line. And whatever his intention, his new surname could not help but suggest that the old name he had explicitly refused was disrespected in that his new name was respected. So by the choice of his surname, Mehmet Say?n appears to have been a radical Kemalist; however, he was pushed by circumstance to become conservative in practice, even if he was a revolutionary in principle.
After Mehmet Say?n assumed the mayoralty, he began to accumulate other public of?ces as well. He became the chairman of the Turkish Air Association (Türk Hava Kurumu), chairman of the Red Crescent Society (K?z?lay Cemiyeti), chairman of the Children’s Protection Society (Çocuk Esirgeme), chairman of the Of People’s House (Of Halkevi), and chairman of the RPP. He was also director of the Ferry Boat Agency (Deniz Yollar? Acenteli?i) and caretaker (mütevelli) for the endowment (vak?f) of the town mosque.
As my interlocutors remarked, “Little Mehmet was the government.” In this regard, he had succeeded in fully “replacing” Ferhat Agha, who might also have been described in such terms. But if he was similar to his imperial predecessor, he was also different. He had begun as an outsider to his family line. He had disassociated himself from his agnates by choosing a unique surname, and he risen to prominence under the auspices of the one-party regime.
Although I have relatively good information about his accumulation of public of?ces, I have very little information about his motives. (…)
Offensichtlich hat dieser Bürgermeister später seinen Nachnamen wieder geändert:
(…) It is at this point that Mehmet Bey made a belated move to become a leading individual from a large family grouping. He assumed a new name.
Formerly known as Mehmet Bey Say?n, he now became known as Mehmet Bey Selimo?lu.
He was far from being the ?rst or the only person of his family line to make an adjustment in his surname. On the contrary, he was among the last. For some years, the members of large family groupings in the coastal region had been reverting back to the original form of their old patronymics, even with the addition of the suf?x “o?lu” (occasionally even using “zade”). In a few instances, large family groupings that had actually split their surnames, despite the counsel of state of?cials, reunited as they reverted to the old patronymic. The prospect of free and direct elections of the representatives of the National Assembly had given a new meaning to the old vertical and horizontal solidarities. The old republic was acquiring a new purpose and becoming a political force in the new republic. (…)
In anderen Teilen der Republik wurde hingegen nicht versucht die vorigen patrilinearen Namen oder Clan-Namen weiter zu verwenden, weil viele sie als rückständig empfanden.
In einem anderen Buch, steht, dass solche Zunamen, wie deli = verrückt, usw. keinen pejorativen Beigeschmack hätten, diese Frage stellte sich doch schon in dem vorigem Posting:
(…) The memory of these men, the root ancestors, their descendants, and their respective lâgap (= nickname) was preserved from generation to generation by the men; women, who stand in a different relation to genealogies, did not show any interest in them until I began to question them on the subject. Because in Turkey no official surnames existed before 1932, except those of some families of nobility, and the usual Islamic first names gave only a small choice, many Ahmets, Alis, Mehmets, Isas, and so forth existed in every clan. Boys and young people with the same name were distinguished by their fathers’ names. They acquired nicknames in addition to their given names as soon as their personalities or their development of distinctive qualities as adults began to stand out. In many cases the nicknames of ancestors were transmitted over generations, during which time they became simply names without pejorative characteristics. Nobody believed that a whole lineage was, for example, “quarrelsome” or “rovers.” Neither were the names taken as attributes of their founders, who might have been given nicknames in youth as, for instance, “crazy” for a fiery youngster, hardly reflective of one in old age. (…)
welches hier kostenlos teilweise downloadbar ist:
Network Analysis and Ethnographic Problems – InterSciWiki
Ist also einerseits so „einfach“, wie im ersten Posting oben beschrieben wurde, andererseits, schaut man genauer, wird es eben doch je nach Provinz, je nach sozialer Schicht, ein bisschen komplexer und vielfältiger. Wie meistens…
Schaut bitte weiter im Buch der letzteren Links nach, sollten darin noch mehr für euch relevante Informationen stecken. Ich denke, für die meisten ist dieser dunkle Fleck in der türkischen Geschichte nur ein wenig klarer geworden. Auch wurde für viele sicherlich deutlicher, wie Türken zu ihren Nachnamen kamen und was manche gar bedeuten, sowie warum viele Nachnamen so ähnlich sind.
Ich bekomme schon quadratische Augen…