Just ask, radekas.
Roughly translated:
"Anyway, I don't believe in equality."
"We have unemployment, because women apply for jobs."
"When girls are educated, men can't find any wifes."
"Isn't that your housework?" (said to a women who wanted help finding a job)
"Why let the child die because the mother was raped? Let the mother die"
"Let she that has been raped give birth to the child. If necessary, the government will take care of the child."
"The rapist is more innocent than the doing an abortion on the victim from the rape."
It's good for you that you find a new hobby, following a distant country, even started to learn their language. Where did you dig up this poorly edited speeches? Some of them are opinion like being against abortion and some of them are facts like the role of working women in unemployment. Men and women are equal in constitution and abortion is legal, women are able to work so you can relax. These are the people who got vote from one of the every two people btw, their words reflecting people's opinion. They are not appointed like 21th century's biggest butcher Bashar Assad or Lion of Zion, Al Sisi I of Mossad whom you like a lot.
Back in the 1900s, Turkish used to be written using Arabic letters. Thought I should share that info here
Kamal's work. Maybe the most important step of de-Islamization. In a single a night, whole nation became a foreigner to their history and religion. Cultural genocide.
''Imagine that a ruler would decree that all English words that came into the language with the Normans had to be replaced by Germanic words, and what the consequences of that would be.''
The Turkish Language Reform: A Catastrophic Success,” by Geoffrey Lewis, published by Oxford
Was the Turkish language reform a success or a catastrophe?
28 February 2010 /MARION JAMES
An elderly gentleman I know often refers to a quite a few managers in the insurance industry as “my students”, but he says “talebem” not “öğrencim” when doing this.
He also refers to the professional organization he helped found as a “cemiyet,” not the “dernek” of its modern title. In the street where I live is a school whose official name includes the old word “mektep” -- although the signs outside warn drivers that this is an “okul.”
Turkish children have been “öğrenci” not “talebe” and going to an “okul” not a “mektep” for over 80 years. But still, when addressing their teacher they are as likely to say “hocam” as “öğretmenim.” Some old words have totally fallen out of currency, being replaced by the new ones. Others have kept their usage. Why?
All languages change and develop. You only have to pick up a piece of English prose written a century or two ago to find a number of changes in meaning. My mother’s generation still often refers to feeling “gay” as being happy and light-hearted. Other words totally drop out: My father used to refer to “blacking” instead of “shoe-polish” and a “pinafore” for an “apron.” We all knew what he meant, but go back a few centuries and a few words can be totally unrecognizable.
But the changes that Turkish underwent in the 20th century were not the result of natural evolution -- as words gradually took on new shades of meaning, and people dropped some in favor of others as fashions changed. Turkish was subject to a deliberate re-engineering.
In his book titled “The Turkish Language Reform,” Oxford University’s eminent Turkish professor, Geoffrey Lewis, describes in detail the process. But be warned -- Professor Lewis is not one to sit on the fence. His attitude to the change is evident from the very subtitle he gave his work: “A Catastrophic Success.”
Lewis uses the example of Atatürk’s famous speech given in 1927 describing how the republic was founded. The original text is almost impossible for today’s schoolchildren to understand without the aid of a dictionary. For the newer generations to understand it, “Nutuk” was translated into modern Turkish in 1963. However, the language changes meant that for the previous generation a new translation was done in the 1980s, the introduction of which refers to the 1960s version as using “antiquated language.” Lewis not only bemoans the way that Turks have been cut off from the literary heritage of the Ottoman age, but also from the Turkish of the 1920s and 1930s: the time of Atatürk, Halide Edip Adıvar, Yakup Kadri Karaosmanoğlu and others.
Now it was clear that something had to be done about the Ottoman language. Lewis concedes this. The written language was really only spoken by the court and the intellectuals. The ordinary people spoke something very different. This disconnect between the words of the gentry and the words of the proletariat is the basis of the humor used by the Bursa shadow-puppets Karagöz and Hacıvat. Hacıvat speaks Ottoman Turkish and completely baffles Karagöz, who usually gets the wrong end of the stick by mistaking an Ottoman word for a similar sounding Turkish one, which of course has a totally different meaning, hence the ensuing comedy.
Namık Kemal wrote, “Even of literates in Istanbul, perhaps one in 10 is incapable of understanding a normally phrased note.” So the language was, basically, over the heads of the people. Although newspapers at the turn of the century frequently urged the use of simpler Turkish, they did so in incredibly complicated language.
In January 1908 the Turkish Association was founded. Everybody agreed that there was a need to amend the language. The argument was over how. The association had, according to Professor Lewis, broadly three types of members. The simplifiers wished to replace words with simpler ones used in current speech. The Turkicizers believed that new words should be created by using Turkish suffixes, and that Arabic and Persian words in use should be counted as Turkish. The purifiers wished to replace everything with pure Turkish, using words from Central Asian Turkic languages if necessary.
The debates caught the political mood of the time. Lewis comments: “By the end of the 19th century some, and by the First World War most, Turkish writers were making a conscious effort to avoid Persian constructions except in stock phrases. They were also ceasing to think of their language as Ottoman, and after 1918 few thought of themselves as Ottoman.”
As with all social issues of his day, language also attracted the attention of Atatürk. He instituted the “dil devrimi” -- in Turkish literally language revolution, not reform -- and the “harf devrimi” -- the change of alphabet. In September 1922 he said “it is not yet time,” but within a decade Parliament accepted international letters, changed the alphabet and approved the setting up of the Turkish Language Commission. Atatürk famously took a personal interest in this project: A major personal success was the change of alphabet over three months, when the experts said it would take years.
Lewis gives an incredible amount of detail about the process in which modern Turkish emerged. He doesn’t pull his punches, even warning, “the squeamish reader may find some of what follows disturbing.” Reactions to the work of the reformers vary according to viewpoint. Did they concoct new words, manufacturing or making them up? Or were they, as in their own words, deriving them? Concoctions, and certainly excuses that these words were Turkish all along, get very harsh treatment from Lewis. I guess he is right when he says it is like saying to an English speaker we should replace the “foreign” word “corporation” with the more “pure English” invention of “bodydom.”
But, of course, as the Turkish Language Commission itself said, “Words are dead in dictionaries, they come to life in writing.” Many of the words they suggested never caught on. Others took off with more popularity than they had imagined. This gradual evolution, introducing words that later got dropped, is shown in the titles of the meeting minutes of the language congress. The first three were “Müzakere Zabıtları,” the fourth was “Toplantı Tutulgarı,” the fifth onwards were the modern “Toplantı Tutanakları.”
Did the reform cut off the modern generation from their literary heritage? This is undeniable.
Has it resulted in a language free of foreign words? Arabic and Persian words were often replaced with French borrowings (gar, abone, enflasyon, etc., etc.), and these days English is creeping in everywhere, albeit with Turkish spelling (maus, şov, fifti-fifti).
Has it resulted in the affluent and the people speaking the same language? No! Many neologisms are invented by those who have to find a Turkish equivalent for a term they usually meet in business English (geri-besleme, frustre olmak). At an insurance company where I consult, the employees of the partner bank (name withheld to protect the guilty!) regularly send us emails that can only be described as “Turklish.” They have given up trying to find Turkish equivalents and just write the English words, with Turkish endings stuck on them: “Benim concernum,” “unemploymentsiz” are recent cracking examples.
Apart from railing against some “linguistic monstrosities” (for example, he abhors the -sel ending), Lewis argues that by simplifying the language Turkish has lost its rich shades of meaning. Thought, concept, reflection, sentiment, consideration … all of these become “düşünce” in Turkish. I think he would take heart to see how the language is evolving in the decade since he wrote his book: Some of the older words are creeping back in when pure Turkish just doesn’t have the perfect word to say exactly what we mean.
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