Feridun Gürgöz’s political memoirs (1)
İsmail Bilen’s bureaucratic reheated arguments
A few days ago, I read Saat Geri Dönmüyor (The Clock Doesn’t Turn Back) [*], the political memoirs of Feridun Gürgöz (1939-2019), a long-standing worker-member of the historical Communist Party of Turkey (TKP) who was active mainly in West Germany. Although the book does not offer an analytical, critical and fully satisfying assessment of the author’s political life, it nevertheless contains a considerable number of interesting and instructive recollections and observations.
In this blog I plan to publish a short series of posts critically examining several passages from Gürgöz’s political autobiography that caught my attention. Before turning to those passages, however, it may be useful to offer a brief introduction to Feridun Gürgöz.
His full name was Feridun Kâmil Gürgöz. He graduated from the Tophane Boys’ Technical Institute and for a time worked in the maintenance department at the Şişli garage of the Istanbul Electricity, Tramway and Tunnel Administration (İETT).
In 1962 he went to West Germany as a “guest worker” and worked as an engine mechanic at a BMW plant in Munich. In the following years he worked at other jobs while also serving as a full-time party functionary.
Gürgöz joined the Communist Party of Turkey in 1971 under the party name Kemal Kaya [**]. He subsequently became one of the typical cadres in the organisational network the party had built among Turkish workers in Europe since the 1960s. He served on the executive board of the Federation of Turkish Socialists in Europe (ATTF), was an active trade union member in the workplaces where he worked, and was active in the TKP’s organisation in Germany. He later became secretary of the Germany Regional Committee.
In the second half of the 1980s, Gürgöz was co-opted into the Central Committee of the TKP, where he served until 1989. In this capacity he occasionally met with the leaders of the Kremlin-aligned Stalinist party in West Germany, the Deutsche Kommunistische Partei (DKP).
In other words, Gürgöz was not an ordinary rank-and-file member of the party, but one of its middle- and upper-level party cadres. Yet, as a TKP member operating abroad, he never rose high enough within the party hierarchy to benefit from even the crumbs of the material privileges provided by the Stalinist regimes. During the years of his active political work he also went through periods of serious financial hardship on more than one occasion. In the end, Stalinist bureaucratic organisations have a sociology of their own.
| Feridun Gürgöz |
However, it appears that in 2014 Gürgöz offered a self-criticism of the line he had long defended and began to take a position in favour of works defending the pre-1985 TKP line. In other words, in the final years of his life he gravitated towards a political stance that could be described as a “return to the classical TKP line”. Playing on the title of his political autobiography, one might say that in his last years Gürgöz was trying “to turn the clock back”.
In May 1992, Gürgöz returned permanently to Turkey. He also contributed for a time to the work of the Foundation for Social History Research in Turkey (TÜSTAV), actively supporting the digitisation of its archives.
* * *
Following this brief biographical outline, we can now turn to the first of the recollections and observations in the book that merit closer examination.
| İsmail Bilen |
After the launch of Atılım in 1974 [***], we had the opportunity to meet Comrade Bilen several times. (…) In his speeches, Comrade Bilen mostly offered general assessments of Turkey and spoke about the historical development of the TKP. At every meeting he expressed his love and devotion to the USSR and the socialist countries, as well as the contributions of the fraternal parties to our own. In the meetings he held with us, what he said (apart from specific tasks) was almost always the same: the same themes and the same assessments. On one occasion-I believe it was in 1980-during another meeting with FAYK [****], I did not take any notes while Comrade Bilen was speaking. To me, he had not said anything very different from what he had said at the previous meeting. My paper and pen were lying in front of me. Turning to me, he asked, “Are you not taking any notes from my speech that you might find useful?” (perhaps not word for word, but that was certainly the meaning). I remember lowering my head and picking up my pen at that moment. In my relations with Comrade Bilen, I was always extremely respectful. My failure to take notes at that meeting happened entirely unconsciously. It could never have been a deliberate act of disrespect towards him. (p. 38)
From this anecdote we learn that Bilen’s speeches to rank-and-file members and sympathisers revolved “almost always around the same themes and the same assessments.” In other words, his speeches repeatedly returned to a handful of themes: loyalty to the USSR, the “contributions of the fraternal parties,” and the historical role of the TKP.
It is clear that Bilen saw no problem in this. On the contrary, his real concern was to prove, again and again, his loyalty to the Stalinist bureaucracy by endlessly repeating these few themes-as if serving them up like reheated porridge-and thereby securing for himself material privileges that were far from negligible. [*****]
Yet this one-sided repetitiveness, which allowed no space whatsoever for debate or creativity, inevitably produced a process of alienation. In this example, the leader of the Stalinist bureaucratic organisation “resolved” the problem of alienation-manifested in Gürgöz’s failure to take notes-through a bureaucratic rebuke: “Are you not noting down anything from my speech that you might find useful?” In short, he dealt with it by scolding.
The lesson the listeners were meant to draw from this warning is clear. Even if the “Comrade Leader” keeps repeating the same things over and over again, it would not do simply to sit there staring blankly; in order not to attract attention, one must at least pretend to be taking notes from time to time.
This small scene also reflects a typical feature of Stalinist party culture: the leader speaks and the cadres listen, while the question of how substantive the speech actually is, becomes secondary.
Another striking aspect is that, even while recounting this incident, Gürgöz feels the need to defend himself. He explains his failure to take notes not as a conscious attitude but as something that “arose subconsciously” and unexpectedly placed him in an awkward position; he also takes care to stress that it could never have been an act of disrespect towards Bilen.
Most likely, even after the meeting the listeners did not speak among themselves about how “Comrade” Bilen kept repeating the same things speech after speech. After all, “walls have ears,” and such criticism could easily land someone in serious trouble.
This brief anecdote recounted by Gürgöz offers a highly instructive glimpse into the inner life of the TKP in those years.
[*] Feridun Gürgöz, Saat Geri Dönmüyor, Tüstav Yayınları, April 2007, Istanbul.
[**] It appears that Gürgöz also used the party name Ziya Güler.
[***] The official organ of the Central Committee of the TKP, first published on 1 January 1974.
[****] FAYK: The West Germany Regional Committee, a body operating within the TKP’s organisation in Western Europe. It was the regional committee responsible for coordinating the party’s political work among Turkish workers living in West Germany.
[*****] In a speech delivered at a meeting of the TKP Moscow Group on 31 May 1965, Sabiha Sümbül the second wife of Salih Hacıoğlu, one of the leading figures of the TKP -better known as “Baytar Salih”-who fell victim of Stalinist terror] provided the following account (…):
Marat’s [İsmail Bilen's party name] wife receives a salary of 300 leva from Bulgaria on behalf of our party. Why doesn’t this woman work? Assistance is meant only for the disabled. I can call someone who lives off the earnings of Bulgarian workers a parasite. How many people can even afford to go to Karlovy Vary today? Yet Mara (Marat’s wife) has the right to go there every year on behalf of our party. Mara doesn’t work -neither for the Soviet party nor for the Bulgarian one. Where did she earn such a privilege? (…) According to reports from Bulgaria, Marat had a whole wagon of goods brought from Germany. He has bought a flat and is having a summer villa built. He also owns a car. The Bulgarian people view this with disgust.
(…)
Where does Marat get all this money? Moreover, Marat has one house in Moscow, one in Germany, and another in Bulgaria. Is this becoming of a communist leader? (…) Can the income of a family that does not work possibly cover such expenses? While the Russian people in Moscow are suffering from a housing crisis, our party leader has kept a three-room flat empty for eight years. [See, From Vartan İhmalyan’s pen: İsmail Bilen (5)].