Childhood and School Years of Atatürk
A Contemporary Children's Story

Prof. Dr. Mine Erol

Translators to Çözümzce:İrem Türkeli

Cover Illustration: Hakan Aydın

Özlem Publıshıng House Ankara

Childhood and School Years of Atatürk

Prof. Dr. Mine Erol

Edited by :Yahya Türkeli

Cover Illustration: Hakan Aydın
Edited by: Yahya Türkeli

E-ISBN: 978-625-6020-34-4

Print Edition (Book): 2019
E-Book: August 2020

No part of this work may be used in full or in summary form without the written permission of the publisher.
All rights reserved.

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Özlem Publishing House
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Batıkent / Ankara
Phone: 0505 346 6049

Trademark Registration: 2012 / 35576
Publisher Certificate: 20539

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Email: bilgi@ozlemyayinevi.com

Mustafa's First Six Years

The front door rattled with a quick, *tak, tak, tak*. "I hope it's good news!" the elderly grandmother murmured. Adjusting her headscarf, she hurried to the door. Ömer stood on the steps. (Ömer was the second son of Ali Rıza Bey and Zübeyde Hanım.) "Come quickly!" Ömer said excitedly. "Mother is calling you. I have a baby brother! The Hodja will be here soon to give him a name!"

Soon, Ömer and his grandmother returned to the house. They went up to the bedroom. The fresh spring air drifted in through the open window. "Ah! The Hodja has arrived," Ömer said curiously. "I wonder what he's saying to the baby!" After saying a prayer, the Hodja leaned close and whispered the name "MUSTAFA" into the baby's ear. The baby had been named. The Hodja straightened up and smiled at Ali Rıza Bey. "You have a healthy son. May God grant him a long life," he said, attaching a blue-beaded amulet to the baby's cradle.

Ali Rıza Bey looked at his newborn son. He had light hair and bright blue eyes, just like his mother. What father wouldn't be proud of such a baby! Yet, he was pensive. He sighed. The baby had been born into a difficult and uncertain world. God would provide. "God willing," he murmured.

A sword hung on the wall above the baby's head. Looking at it, Ali Rıza Bey remembered his days of valiant service in the Ottoman army. Perhaps Mustafa would also choose a military life, who knew!

Lying in a corner of the room, Zübeyde Hanım saw her husband looking at the sword; she seemed to read his thoughts. She looked at the sword, then at the baby, and then turned her head towards the Hodja. The Hodja was an intelligent, educated man. Yes, her son's future should be like his. He should dedicate his life to teaching the Muslim faith and preaching, just like the Hodja. She knew Ali Rıza Bey would object. But Zübeyde Hanım was determined to persist in her belief.

So, in the spring of 1881, in Thessaloniki, this baby was born, destined to become a great man, a great soldier, and a great statesman. This baby was none other than Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the savior of the Turkish nation and the founder of the Republic of Turkey. What kind of place was Thessaloniki?

Was it a good place for a boy to be born and grow up? Thessaloniki was a bustling port city, its harbor filled with ships from many lands. The city, scattered across the hills, descended almost to the seashore. It was a city famous for its trade and populated by people from many countries: Greeks, Jews, Macedonians, French, Turks… It was like a boiling pot of the vast Ottoman Empire. Here, a boy could learn about the world and prepare himself for the times. Zübeyde Hanım was lost in these thoughts. Suddenly, the baby started to cry. It was a strong cry. She lovingly took her baby into her arms. Zübeyde Hanım, always eager to learn about the happenings in this world where she played a small part, now focused all her attention on her baby, her Mustafa, oblivious to the conversation between her husband and the Hodja. Ali Rıza Bey was a native of Thessaloniki. He was the son of Ahmet Bey, a soldier, and the nephew of Mehmet Bey, a primary school teacher.

He had worked for a time as a clerk in the Thessaloniki Evkaf office and later as a customs officer. With the three gold liras he earned each month, he struggled to support his family in their three-story pink wooden house next to the orphanage in the Ahmet Subaşı neighborhood. Eventually, he resigned from his government job and started a timber business in partnership with Cafer Efendi. Ali Rıza Bey was known among his friends as an honest and honorable man. Although he lacked formal education, he closely followed the events in the Ottoman Empire and the Macedonians' struggle for freedom. Schools oriented towards the West and America, run by well-educated teachers, had opened in many parts of Thessaloniki. Ali Rıza Bey, a forward-thinking man, believed that these schools would offer much to boys in a rapidly changing and westernizing world.

Zübeyde Hanım, Mustafa's mother, was 20 years younger than her husband and came from a respectable Macedonian family. Her father, Varyemez Ahmet Ibrahim Efendi, was a wealthy man and owned vast lands and a cattle farm in Langaza, about 20 km northeast of Thessaloniki. Zübeyde, the only daughter in the family, moved to Thessaloniki when she was 14. (Some sources say they moved to Thessaloniki after Zübeyde pricked her foot with a needle and it broke, so her father could provide her with the best medical care.) Like other women of the time, Zübeyde Hanım had no formal education, but she was eager to take advantage of all the opportunities available for her children. With her gray-blue eyes and blonde hair, she was considered a very beautiful woman. It was customary for girls to marry young at that time, and Zübeyde Hanım was in her twenties when she gave birth to her fourth child, Mustafa. She desired the best possibilities in the world for her young son Mustafa's future.

Zübeyde Hanım supported religious schools that raised young people according to the Muslim faith and life, and she wanted Mustafa to become a teacher in these schools. However, since Mustafa was still very young, she kept these thoughts to herself and for now, contented herself with her son's healthy and strong growth.

According to tradition, Mustafa had several wet nurses besides his own mother. Among them were Zübeyde Hanım's Arab maid, Üftade Bacı, and Mustafa's Macedonian nanny. The nanny came every day to look after Mustafa and sang him lullabies from her homeland. Although Ali Rıza Bey's income from the wood trade wasn't very high, they lived comfortably. They had two older sons: Ahmet and Ömer. Ahmet was seven and Ömer was six when Mustafa was born. Zübeyde Hanım spent her entire day caring for her three sons. Ali Rıza Bey was a loving and affectionate father.

There was also a grandmother: Zübeyde Hanım's mother, Ayşe Hanım. She lived with her son, Hüseyin Efendi, on the Rapla farm, not far from Thessaloniki. Whenever she visited Thessaloniki from the farm, she brought delicious yogurt in a clay pot, fresh cheese, milk, and eggs. Her grandchildren loved her very much. Like other grandmothers, she told her grandchildren stories; however, her stories were not about genies and fairies, but rather interesting events from her own family's history.

As Mustafa grew older, he started playing more with his brothers. The bay window on the upper floor of the house, overlooking the busy street, was one of the children's favorite play areas. The balcony at the back of the house, overlooking the garden and trees, also attracted their attention. The trees were full of birds, and the grass in the garden was home to lizards, grasshoppers, and many other creatures.

A sudden and unexpected tragedy struck this warm and comfortable home in 1883. One morning, Mustafa, who was only two years old, asked Ömer to get up and play with him. Ömer was not feeling well. "Go call mother, I can't, my throat hurts," he said.

Mustafa, wanting to play, went to Ahmet's bed. Ahmet was lying exhausted, his eyes bloodshot, burning with fever. When Mustafa said, "Let's play a little," Ahmet could only shake his head weakly. Mustafa started to cry. He couldn't understand why his brothers didn't want to play with him.

He ran to the kitchen shouting, "Mother, mother!" Zübeyde Hanım understood from Mustafa's cries that something was wrong. She rushed into the room. Ahmet and Ömer were lying in bed with high fevers. After putting cold compresses on their foreheads, Zübeyde Hanım immediately sent her maid to fetch Dr. Jak, the best doctor in the neighborhood. The doctor arrived shortly after. He immediately recognized the illness, as he had seen many similar cases in the past few days. It was diphtheria, a deadly disease. At that time, there wasn't much that could be done in terms of treatment. Those who died, died; those who survived, survived. Everything was in God's hands.

Within three days, everything was over. Ahmet and Ömer had passed away. Only Mustafa remained of the three boys whose voices had once filled the house. A deep silence fell over the house. Only Mustafa's occasional calls of "Ahmet, Ömer" broke the silence. He couldn't understand that they were gone and wouldn't play with him anymore.

Ali Rıza Bey and Zübeyde Hanım mourned their two sons, just as they had mourned their daughter Fatma, who had died in Çayağzı.

It was astonishing that Mustafa didn't contract this deadly disease, even though he was around his two sick brothers, played with them, and even drank water from the same glass. God had protected Mustafa from the clutches of this disease.

Thank God, the family's only remaining child was a strong, healthy, and beautiful boy. From that day on, Mustafa became the sole source of love for his mother and father. They were interested in everything he did and said, and they were proud of him. Mustafa was a very intelligent child. He wanted to understand everything he saw and asked endless questions.

Mustafa was four years old. One day, there was an unusual bustle in the house. Zübeyde Hanım had given birth to a daughter. They named her Makbule. Mustafa was happy; finally, he had a sibling to play with. He was curious about his sister. Finally, he quietly entered his mother's room. Many women had come to visit. Everyone was interested in the baby; no one even noticed Mustafa entering the room. This situation must have made Mustafa’a little jealous because he didn't even want to see the baby. He quietly left the room as he had entered.

He went and sat in the bay window of the room overlooking the street and began to watch the street from behind the shutters. From there, he could see the simit seller, carrying the simits on his head without holding them with his hands. The street sweeper was sweeping the street with a broom in his hand, the water seller was making noises by hitting the glass against the plate, and women in çarşafs were passing by. In the distance, Mount Olympus, covered with snow, was visible. The clatter of horse-drawn carriages on Vardar Street, the bells of the Greek church, and the whistles of the ships in the harbor could be heard. The voice of the muezzin reciting the call to prayer from the mosque's minaret occasionally mixed with these sounds. All of these were undoubtedly much more interesting to Mustafa than a baby sister.

One of Mustafa's favorite things was feeding the birds that came to the balcony, especially in winter. Zübeyde Hanım didn't want Mustafa to go out on the balcony; she was afraid he would catch a cold and get sick. Because he was Zübeyde Hanım's only remaining son. However, Mustafa wanted to feed the birds.

"Look, mother, these poor birds are so hungry! They are looking into my eyes, asking me to feed them. Don't worry, mother, as soon as I put the food in their bowls, I'll come right back inside and watch them from the window," he would say, and he would do just that.

One day, Zübeyde Hanım took Mustafa with her when she went to visit a friend. The road passed through the marketplace. Mustafa was a curious child. He asked questions about everything he saw and heard. Zübeyde Hanım answered as best she could. At one point, Mustafa stopped asking questions.

Zübeyde Hanım looked around; Mustafa was nowhere to be seen. Panicked, she immediately plunged into the market; she struggled through the shoppers with their bags; she wandered around piles of fruits and vegetables. Mustafa was nowhere to be found. Just as she was leaving the marketplace, she saw Mustafa under the trees. He was next to the men selling birds in cages.

His mother stood where she was and watched Mustafa. Mustafa was bargaining with the bearded bird seller for two birds. He had two kuruş in his hand, but he wanted to buy two birds for one kuruş. Sometimes he would shake his head, meaning "no." Sometimes the old man would shake his head. Finally, they reached an agreement. The old man took two goldfinches from the cage and placed them in Mustafa's palms. At that moment, Zübeyde Hanım came to his side. She asked excitedly, "Son, what are you going to do with these birds? We can't take them to our visit. And we don't have a cage to put them in."

"Mother, don't worry, I didn't buy these birds to put them in a cage. I bought them to give them their freedom. Birds don't like being caged, no one does. Birds must be free to sing. Look, mother, when I open my palm, how they will fly. Like this!" he said, and opened one of his palms. The tiny bird shook itself first. Then it flew out of his hand and landed on the branch of a nearby tree.

Mustafa was extremely happy. Zübeyde Hanım was now calm. Seeing her son happy made her happy. Mustafa looked at the tiny bird in his other palm; soon it too would be free. He gently blew on its feathers, then suddenly opened his palm. The bird flew out of his hand. It also landed on a tree there. Soon, both birds began to sing. Zübeyde Hanım was deeply moved by her little son's action.

Mustafa was only five years old. This act by a child of that age carried significant meaning. As Zübeyde Hanım held Mustafa's hand and walked away from the marketplace with quick steps, Mustafa turned his head and looked at the birds one last time.

"Mother, look how happy the birds are now that they are free. Do you hear, mother, listen, do you hear their chirping?"

That evening, Zübeyde Hanım told Ali Rıza Bey how Mustafa had bargained with the bird seller in the marketplace, bought two birds for one kuruş, and then released them. Ali Rıza Bey turned to Mustafa and said:

"Well done, my son," he said. "One kuruş is not a lot of money to pay for freedom. The place for birds is not a cage, but the sky. They want to be free, just like people. A cage is no different from a prison. You did well to set them free. I see you've also learned how to bargain. Well, now you can help me in the shop, I think..."

"But Father, I don't want to work in a lumber shop when I grow up. I don't want to be involved in trade either. Think of those men walking around the streets with bolts of fabric on their backs. I don't want to be like them. Maybe I'll become a soldier. Every day I see those handsomely uniformed, sword-bearing soldiers passing in front of the mansion on Sabripaşa Street. I'm going to be a soldier too."

Upon hearing these words, Zübeyde Hanım shook her head in disapproval. Ali Rıza Bey, however, laughed.

"My son, a soldier has far more important duties than wearing a beautiful uniform and brandishing a sword," he said. "We shall see. But until then, you must go to school and learn to read and write. One day, I hope, you will choose the most suitable profession for yourself." After saying this, he spoke about the Arabs' uprising against the Ottomans, the topic of the day. Mustafa listened attentively to his father's words. There was much to learn in this world he was born into.

From a young age, Mustafa enjoyed watching children play by the fountain and in the streets. They were all his friends. Among them was Nuri Conker. Mustafa wouldn't join their games. He would just stand beside them, hands behind his back, ramrod straight, watching them. Sometimes the children would play leapfrog, sometimes hopscotch, sometimes they would gather and play knucklebones. Running was also a favorite game.

"My son, a soldier has far more important duties than wearing a beautiful uniform and brandishing a sword," he said. "We shall see. But until then, you must go to school and learn to read and write. One day, I hope, you will choose the most suitable profession for yourself." After saying this, he spoke about the Arabs' uprising against the Ottomans, the topic of the day. Mustafa listened attentively to his father's words. There was much to learn in this world he was born into.

From a young age, Mustafa enjoyed watching children play by the fountain and in the streets. They were all his friends. Among them was Nuri Conker. Mustafa wouldn't join their games. He would just stand beside them, hands behind his back, ramrod straight, watching them. Sometimes the children would play leapfrog, sometimes hopscotch, sometimes they would gather and play knucklebones. Running was also a favorite game.

One day, the children were playing leapfrog. They teased Mustafa to join them. Mustafa smiled. With a dignified air, he lifted his chin and said, "Alright, I'll play with you. But you will jump over me while I'm standing. I won't bend down."

The children looked at each other and thought, "What a strange child this Mustafa is." There was always a unique peculiarity in Mustafa's behavior.

Early School Years

Mustafa had turned seven, the age to start school. Ali Rıza Bey would say, "This boy is very intelligent for his age, he should go to a good school," and he wanted his son to attend the best school.

At that time, there were two types of schools in the Turkish quarter of Thessaloniki. One was called the neighborhood school (mahalle mektebi). Here, children would sit on the floor facing a turbaned teacher and recite prayers, nodding their heads. This was a primitive school. The other was the newly established elementary school, similar to those of today. In the neighborhood schools, children were only taught to memorize the Quran in Arabic. Since the children didn't know this language, they understood nothing of what they read. In addition to this, there were very few lessons in mathematics, history, and geography. In history lessons, children were only made to memorize the names of sultans. The most successful student in school was the one who could recite the Quran most accurately. The teacher of the neighborhood school in Ali Rıza Bey's district was Hafız Mehmet. This teacher was cruel to the children and seemed to take pleasure in beating them. It was believed that such teachers provided the best education. Parents would hand over their children to the teacher, saying, "Your flesh, my bones." In those days, corporal punishment and education were intertwined. Therefore, Hafız Efendi, the teacher, was well-known and highly respected.

The other type of school was new in Thessaloniki. Ali Rıza Bey approved of the teaching style of this school. The teacher of this school was Şemsi Efendi. Şemsi Efendi was a well-read, self-educated man. According to him, children could only receive the best education when they could find answers to their questions. The method applied in these schools taught children that acquiring knowledge was not a burden, but a pleasure. These types of schools were established in Thessaloniki in 1878. This was the kind of school Ali Rıza Bey wanted to send Mustafa to. Zübeyde Hanım, however, insisted that her son attend the neighborhood school. She believed that children in the Ottoman Empire needed to attend Quranic schools to lead an orderly life, claiming that only in this way could they become respectable individuals.

A special ceremony was held for children starting neighborhood school. This ceremony, held on their first day of school, was quite spectacular. Zübeyde Hanım wanted her son to start school with such a ceremony. "Let my son start school with ceremonies and prayers, and let my chest swell with pride," she said. Ali Rıza Bey, on the other hand, said, "Neighborhood schools are outdated. Our son should study in the newly opened schools. What can a neighborhood school teach this intelligent child?"

Mustafa stood aside, listening silently to his parents' arguments. He didn't like ceremonies at all, especially the chanting of hymns while parading through the streets. He just wanted to start school and learn things. However, despite everything, when Zübeyde Hanım insisted, Ali Rıza Bey thought differently without upsetting his wife. He would first send Mustafa to the neighborhood school as his mother wished, and then take him from there and enroll him in one of the newly opened schools. He quietly explained the situation to Mustafa. Mustafa agreed. The next day, Ali Rıza Bey registered his son at the neighborhood school.

On the day of the ceremony, his mother dressed and adorned Mustafa. A little later, Hafız Mehmet Efendi, the teacher of the neighborhood school, arrived in front of Mustafa's house, followed by his former students. All the women and children in the neighborhood crowded in front of the door to watch the ceremony.

Sherbet and baklava were offered to the guests who came for the celebration. Ali Rıza Bey was aware of how bored his son was with this affair. After pulling Mustafa aside and comforting him, he hung a bag embroidered with large "Maşallah" in gold sequins around his neck. Inside the bag was an Elifba booklet (alphabet). Mustafa's nerves were on edge, his face sullen. Even this beautiful bag couldn't appease his anger. Almost pleadingly, he said, "Father, I don't want a ceremony or anything, can't you just take me to school quietly?" His father said, "Be patient, my son." "Just start at Hafız Mehmet Efendi's school, learn the Arabic letters, and you'll see, I'll take you from that school and enroll you in Şemsi Efendi's school. Let's fulfill your mother's wishes first, then we'll do as we wish."

Mustafa first kissed the hands of his mother and father, and then all the elders in the house. As his father took Mustafa's hand and led him down the stairs, Zübeyde Hanım was crying. Ali Rıza Bey handed Mustafa over to Hafız Efendi, the teacher. He repeated the saying, "Your flesh, my bones." Mustafa walked at the front; behind him was Hafız Mehmet, the teacher, and further back, the former students walked to school in a group, chanting hymns.

Soon, Mustafa, hands on his knees, was learning his first prayer, swaying from side to side. Every day, the male students would kneel before the teacher in this manner and memorize the Arabic letters. When the alphabet was finished, prayers from the Quran were recited in unison. Since these prayers were written in Arabic, a language the children didn't understand, they held no meaning for them. The teacher would beat anyone who didn't pay attention or showed disrespect.

One day, Mustafa thought, "At Şemsi Efendi's school, the children study without kneeling. I won't kneel either, I'll sit upright like the children there," and sat upright in his place.

Hafız Mehmet, the teacher, began to think about what kind of punishment he would inflict on this rebellious child. Meanwhile, all the children shouted, "We won't kneel either, we'll sit upright." Then they shifted from kneeling to sitting. Hafız Mehmet was very surprised and didn't know what to do. After this incident, for as long as Mustafa remained at the school, all the students studied sitting on the floor instead of kneeling.

Every night, Mustafa would read the alphabet to his father and meticulously copy the letters into his notebook. After relearning the alphabet, the time came to be sent to Şemsi Efendi's school. His father, Ali Rıza Bey, took Mustafa from Hafız Mehmet's school and enrolled him in Şemsi Efendi's school. From that day on, reading and writing became a pleasure for Mustafa.

Mustafa was now attending a school where asking questions was allowed, and he found hundreds of questions to ask. He asked questions at home about everything he learned at school, everything he saw and heard on the street, just as he did at school. Ali Rıza Bey was very pleased with his son's eagerness to learn and wondered what kind of work Mustafa would do when he grew up. One day, he went to school to talk to his teacher to learn about Mustafa's progress.

Şemsi Efendi said about Mustafa, "Mustafa is a very intelligent child. He is willing and ready to learn everything. His mind is constantly working. It's clear from the questions he asks that he's a very smart child. Does he ask a lot of questions at home too?" Ali Rıza Bey replied, "Absolutely." Şemsi Efendi said, "Mustafa is the most intelligent and thoughtful of his peers." Then he added, "Don't worry, he will be much better than you expect. Don't pressure him to study. I'm sure he'll be much more successful if you leave him to his own devices..."

This was true. Mustafa finished the first grade of Şemsi Efendi's school with the highest marks. He especially loved mathematics. At home, he would create problems for himself and then try to solve them. His father, who valued his son's education, was extremely pleased with his success. Mustafa was keenly interested not only in school-related subjects but also in everything he saw and heard. One day, a carpenter came to the house to repair the bedroom door. Mustafa, as always, stood and watched with curiosity what the carpenter was doing. At one point, his mother called out, "Mustafa, come here! Leave Hasan Usta alone." Mustafa said, "Mother, I'm not doing anything, please let me watch." Just then, somehow, the door came off its hinges. Seeing this, Mustafa said, "Wait, Hasan Usta, let me help you," and the door fell on Hasan Usta with a loud crash. Hasan Usta tumbled from the stool he was standing on. He quickly recovered and got to his feet. He wasn't seriously hurt, just a small cut on his hand that was bleeding. Mustafa shouted, "Mother, Mother!" and ran to the kitchen to help Hasan Usta. But he found his mother lying on the floor. He was very surprised. He didn't know what to do. Zübeyde Hanım had fainted, thinking something had happened to her only son. Mustafa, clinging to his mother's shoulders, anxiously asked, "Get up, Mother! What's wrong, are you alright?" After a while, Zübeyde Hanım came to and sat up. Looking intently at Mustafa, she asked, "Mustafa, my son, are you alright?" "Nothing happened to me, Mother, just Hasan Usta's hand is cut and bleeding. Can you come?" His mother said, "One minute, Mustafa, one minute,