No one regarded these events as abnormal, and the evidence I have supports the view that this rate of violence seems quIte typical of the less suburban parts of rural Turkey.
In all these cases, except for the children's accident, people apparently used arms with the intent to kill. But of course quarrels of a less violent character happen constantly. The seriousness of a quarrel depends partly on the degree of violence which has been used, partly on the nature of the disagreement, and partly on the social distance between the two sides.
This violent hostility between lineages exists only within villages. In no case did the killings I have listed take place between villages. Sakaltutan had, it is true, been involved with a village near by in fighting over land on the border about two years before my arrival, but there had been no casualties. I heard of another case of inter-village fighting in the area, but had no details. It is possible that in the past such clashes were more frequent and people were killed. On the other hand, so long as each village had a smaller population and enough arable land and pasture to meet its needs, it is equally possible that fighting between villages as such was rarer.
Whatever may have been the case in the past, in 1950 to 1952 effective and serious long-term hostility was always between lineages of the same village, and on the rare occasions when men left their natal village for their wife's village they seem, de facto, to have shed their duties to their agnates and acquired quasiagnatic rights and duties towards their wife's kin.
When two persons quarrel they are said to be küs. This word is constantly heard. On one occasion a grandmother left to cook and to mind her baby granddaughter while the rest of the household went out to harvest in the fields, remarked jokingly at the end of the day that she and the baby were küs. The dictionary meaning for this word is `sulk', but this is too undignified a word. It implies the behaviour of Achilles in his tent, a formal breaking off of social relations, usually in the interests of honour. Its converse is the word for speaking together, konushmak.
This formal state of hostility often exists for longer or shorter periods between individuals or households. A man may be küs with his parents-in-law, or husband and wife may be küs with each other. But if it is established between two normal non-kin households then the agnates on each side are likely to be involved.
No recognised machinery exists in the village for the settlement of such quarrels. It is always possible for people to decide to resume social relations, and this may be done simply by a single formal visit. Sometimes third parties with ties to both sides may attempt to bring them together. But if the matter involves violence or interference with the honour of a woman, then in theory no reconciliation is possible. Revenge is necessary to satisfy honour and in turn leads to further revenge. Not even time was recognised as a palliative. Even after fifty years, people said vengeance may still be exacted. This absence of machinery for reconciliation or compensation I found astonishing, and I made persistent enquiries with no success. In the short run at least the evidence seemed to support the village theory of implacability.
It is always the duty of bystanders to intervene to prevent violence; once moved to anger people will quickly resort to violence and must be prevented. On one occasion I myself lost my temper with a young lad, chased him across the village and punched him on the jaw. A large pack of villagers pursued me and laid hands on me for fear we should injure each other.