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  misleading.  I have not made great use of the term, but have in places used
“social order” or “social organisation” where I might have used “social
structure”, not with any definite plan but according to which seemed to be
more appropriate in the context.  Nevertheless, the word “structure” can
readily be interpreted to cover the ground which I have covered in this thesis.

I must also plead guilty to a shift of ground in the use of the word “system”.
The absence of formal rules of association, the freedom of contact between all
members of the village, provided only that they belong to the same sex, lead
me to say that the society has no system.  Yet later as in writing I thought
more deeply about the material, I found it appropriate to speak of the social
system of the village.  I think it fair to say that this inconsistency reflects the
village life.  Compared with other societies, for example the caste system of
India, it is unsystematic; yet behaviour does in fact follow rules, it is possible
to predict with a high degree of success how people will react to given
situations, and it is, therefore, legitimate to speak of a social system.  In this
sense, indeed, there can be no human society without system.

The lack of any single pattern of analysis or definite criterion of relevance
makes the arrangement of the chapters somewhat arbitrary.  I have begun with
a historical and general introduction to Turkey, because it seems to me
essential to the understanding of much that goes on in the villages.  The
absence of any such historical background seems to me a serious shortcoming,
for example, in Arensberg’s study of Irish peasants. (4)  Next follows a brief
description of the setting and the material environment of the villages, equally
necessary, if not to the comprehension of the social system, at least to forming
a concrete picture of the social life.  But after this I found it difficult to know
where to begin on the details of this description.  Whatever institutions one
turns to, it seems that it is first necessary, if the reader is to understand it, to
describe some other.  Moreover, every topic seems to lead one on, not to one,
but to several others.  On the other hand it is not true, as Professor
Malinowski maintained, that one can describe the whole society as a
framework and a starting point.  Although marriage and weddings are of
fundamental importance in the village social system, there are many topics a
full account of which could hardly be held relevant to marriage, for example,
relations with the government, or the defensive solidarity of the agnatic kin-
groups.

The order on which I have eventually decided was that which seemed to
follow a course of development from the institutions which seem to stand best
on their own, towards those which interlock most with the rest of the society,
preserving at the same time a division into general subjects.  The chapters on
kindred and marriage, chapters V - IX, form a whole, being of a series of



 




  related and overlapping topics.  The political and the economic organisation of
the village follows these, because they can only be understood in the light of
the kinship structure.  This arrangement leaves unsolved problems - for
example, inheritance, which is both a kinship and an economic matter, has in
fact been treated in full in neither place, and the discussion on the household
becomes divided into three parts.  It also involves arbitrary transitions at the
end of chapter IX and of chapter X.  Religion and social change, which both
relate to every aspect and are, therefore, left to the end, also make somewhat
sudden entries.  These difficulties could have been avoided only at the expense
of creating others, and in defence of the order adopted I would claim to have
achieved the least of possible evils.

Finally, a word on my use of Turkish words.  Although clumsy in an English
account, it seems better to Turkish words for concepts for which there is no
convenient English word, rather than to give a complex definition for an
English word which normally means something else, and then to attempt to
use it only in the defined sense.  For example, for the men’s club rooms, I use
the word “oda”.  I could have explained the institution, and then used for it
either the English word “room”, or “guest room”, or possibly something else.
But any English term has misleading associations, which no amount of
defining will remove, and if one happens to need the word in its ordinary
English sense, ambiguity arises.  But while the word “oda” in the account is
not English, it is not for that reason Turkish.  That is to say, I have made the
word my own, and use the Turkish word to supply a need in English, not
exactly as it is used in the village, let alone as it is used in Istanbul.  Another
example of this practice is the word “kabile” which is vague in the village, and
not in frequent use, but which I have used in most contexts to refer to the
groups which I distinguish in Appendix C.  It must not be assumed, then, that
the precise meaning and contextual associations of the Turkish words I use can
be grasped from my use of them.

For the pronunciation of Turkish words, and for relevant remarks on their
grammar, the reader is referred to Appendix A.


  I. HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL BACKGROUND

  1.  Geography

The Republic of Turkey forms a compact rectangle, with an area of some
300,000 sq miles, stretching from the Aegean Sea on the West to the highlands
of Iran in the East, with European neighbours on the West, Arab states in the



 




  South, and Persian and the USSR in the East and North-East.  Within this
territory are considerable differences of climate and ecology.  The south and
west coastal fringes have a heavy winter rainfall, with hot, fairly dry,
summers, while the north coast has rain all the year round.  Except for the
plains round Antalya and Adana, the coastline is mountainous on every side.
In these well watered and fertile coastal areas grow Turkey’s main
commercial crops - tobacco, sultanas, nuts and figs for export, and sugar,
cotton and even tea for home use.  The land rises from the western coast to the
edge of the plateau which stretches east for about 300 miles, bordered on the
north by the forest clad mountains of the Black Sea coast, and on the south by
the Taurus.  This plateau averages about 3,000 feet, gradually getting higher
as one goes east, until it reaches higher and more mountainous country as it
approaches the Persian and Soviet Union frontiers.

The plateau area has a severe climate, with bitter winters, hot summers, and
low rainfall, most of which may fall in violent downpours, which damage
crops and wash away the soil.  To take the figures for Kayseri, situated fairly
centrally on the plateau, temperature varies annually between about 98.5 and -
20 F.  It has about 100 sunny days a year, and about 80 overcast days.
Between 1931 and 1944 annual precipitation varied between 458 mm and 262
mm, very little of which falls in the summer. (1)  Snow lies in Kayseri for
anything up to two months.

The plateau for the most part is rolling steppe land, devoid of woodland.  The
staple crop is wheat, with barley, rye and other grains found to some extent.
In a few areas rice is grown extensively.  Potatoes and other vegetables are
planted in most areas, and vines and fruit trees are also common.

The population of Turkey, according to figures based on the 1935 census, the
accuracy of which is not entirely reliable, is densest also the Black Sea and
Western coastline and in the North-West corner of Turkey, including Thrace,
also in the Hatay, the hinterland of Iskanderun (Alexandretta), which Turkey
acquired from Syria in 1939.  The density per square mile for the rest of
Turkey, that is including the plateau, was under fifty, except for the Vilayet of
Kayseri, the population of which was just over fifty.

Outside the towns, the population of the plateau lives in compact villages.  No
one lives alone in the open country, for fear of brigands, still a real fear,
though no longer a real danger.  The population of these villages varies from
about twenty homes upwards; in 1940, only 1.2% of the population of Turkey
lived in villages of less than a hundred people, and most of these would
probably not be on the plateau.  The villages are built mainly of stone or mud



 



  brick; the houses are flat roofed, and often situated on the side of a hill, into
which they blend - the new red-roofed school building, which one sees in
some villages, standing out in sharp contrast.

The majority of villages are Turkish speaking, and profess orthodox Sunni
Islam.  No Christian villages remain, but there are Kurdish and Circassian
speaking villages, and villages which belong by religion to shiite sects.  Near
us there were also Avakars, who, though recognised as distinct by themselves
and by their neighbours because of differences in custom, dress and dialect,
nevertheless speak Turkish and intermarry with the Turkish villages.  In all
these villages the household is patrilineal and marriage patrilocal, though
undoubtedly there are considerable local variations in social organisation.

2.  The Ottoman Empire

Any attempt to consider Turkish history from however small a scale forces
one to an examination of the process by which the successful, of itself falling
into decline, became exposed to the pressure of Western Europe, which was its
final undoing.  The events which led to the establishment of the Republic and
the westernising revolution of Kemal Ataturk have their roots in the series of
reforms and changes which are conventionally said to begin with the new
model army, formed by Selim III (1789-1807), following on the serious
defeats of Turkey at the hands of Russia in the wars of 1768-1774 and 1788-
1792.

During the nineteenth century, partly under the influence of the spontaneous
spread of ideas through personal contact and study, partly under direct
political pressure from the Western powers, the central government made
periodic attempts to imitate Wester political and social institutions in the name
of reforms, by the naive method of passing laws or promulgating decrees
which there was little or no machinery for implementing.  It is important to
realise that the model itself, Western Europe, was in a state of violent and
accelerating change.  The concepts such as universal suffrage, education for
all, equal rights for minorities were developing in Europe spontaneously and
indigenously, in response to the impact of the new technology on the existing
social structure and cultural patters.  These ideas, wrapped up with, and based
on, other Western notions, such as secular legislation, and secular justice, were
to be applied from the top downwards, by order of a centralised authority, to
a society whose social institutions, from the family up to the state, and whose
morality and religion, were fundamentally different from those of Western
Europe.  Considered as an act of conscious policy, the attempt was so far from
any hope of success as to appear futile.  The Ottoman Empire decreed an
extensive and complete educational reform (1) two years before the Education



 




  Act of 1870 in England, a law which has today, eighty years after, been fully
implemented, neither in the Turkish Republic nor in most of what were then
the provinces of the Empire.  But it is not in terms of the wisdom or
otherwise of the people responsible that we should look at these reforms, but
as symptoms of a social process.  The splendid confusion of ideas of the
Committee of Union and Progress, which, after a successful revolt against the
reactionary regime of the Sultan Abdul Hamid in 1908, ruled Turkey until the
end of World War I, embraced pan-Ottoman parliamentarianism, rights for
minorities, pan-Islamism, pan-Turanianism, (3) together with a flavour of
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity and a particular admixture of Prussian
absolutism.  The political unit to which these ideas were to be applied
contained numerous violently nationalist minorities, Islamic as well as
Christian, each as much against its neighbours as against the Turks, and in
many cases muddled up territoriality in such a way that once the system of the
independent “Millet” of the Ottoman Empire was abandoned, no satisfactory
political substitute could be found.  Moreover, the vast majority of the
inhabitants on whom this hotchpotch of political and social ideas was to be
imposed, were illiterate peasants mainly living in places inaccessible to
wheeled transport, for whom government meant the tax collector and the
drafting officer, both foreign and hostile interferers with village life.  Few of
those minor officials who would be responsible for the detailed administration
and application of the “reforms” had any knowledge of the models on which
they were founded, or any comprehension of the purposes they were intended
to achieve.

The founders of the Republic, headed by the great figure of Mustafa Kemal,
were the heirs of this confusion in more ways than one.  But historical events
had solved some of their problems and given them the means of solving
others.  The subject peoples were no longer their concern, the defeat of the
Ottoman Empire had removed the political backbone of Pan-Islamism,
sufficiently weakening the Caliphate for Ataturk (Mustafa Kemal) to be able to
abolish it, the revolution in Russia had destroyed any immediate hope for, or
point in, pan-Turanianism, and the agreement with Greece on the exchange of
populations removed the last serious nationalist “Millet” from inside the
boundaries of the new Republic.  Nationalism became the driving principle of
Ataturk’s party, a nationalism directed at raising the prestige of Turkey by
efficient Westernisation rather than by an attempt to recover the Empire.
Many contradictions remained - between, for example, the glorification of
everything Turkish, carried to the point of xenophobia, on the one hand, and
an open admiration of the technical achievement of the West, with an avid
desire to imitate them, on the other; or between an anti-religious secularism,
and a pro-Islamic, anti-Christian attitude.  The administrative and social



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