Human relations between Turks and Greeks in Western Thrace through the window of time

As you may have noticed, I often try to address the issue of identity in my writings. There are understandable reasons for this. When looking back from today, the importance and sensitivity of the issue make such a perspective necessary. There is no doubt that this is a result of the disregard for the identity values of the Turkish minority in the past fifty to sixty years.
The process of identity experienced by the Turkish community in Western Thrace in the past sixty years, especially, has been a result of dogmatic approaches that ignored an existing reality and, in its place, imposed the belief and acceptance of a new "reality" on the intellectual level. This approach, which has no rational explanation, has led to a disruption of the traditional neighborly relations between the Turks and Greeks living in Western Thrace. I will attempt to substantiate my thoughts with examples based on some data related to this topic. However, before proceeding, I would like to clarify the use of the term "Greeks" in the title of this article.
It is of course impossible to claim that the term "Greek" has any specific meaning within the context of Greece's population today. In Turkish, this term is used as a political concept to describe individuals and communities of Greek descent who are not bound by Greek citizenship. However, as is remembered, the term "Greek" was used to refer to Greek citizens, those of Greek ancestry, up until the 1970s or even the 1980s. This term, which became part of our vocabulary during the Ottoman period, was adopted and used for many years by both Turks and Greeks living in Western Thrace.
In this context, when examining the historical relations between Turks and Greeks in Western Thrace, it is seen that both the term "Greek" and "Turk" have been adopted and used by both communities. There are significant examples of the culture of coexistence, based on mutual respect, that has been passed down through history. Looking back sixty years, Greeks always used the term "Turk" to describe the minority, their institutions, and various traditions, such as weddings. This relationship, based on mutual tolerance, continued to develop. In the historical context of Western Thrace, both the Turkish and Greek realities were accepted based on both identities in the village, city, shopping, buses, and all areas of life. Expressions such as "I speak Greek," "Greek teacher," "Greek neighborhood," "Greek shop," or "Turkish teacher," "Turkish village," and "Turkish school" were used freely by both Turks and Greeks without any restrictions. One can multiply examples like: "If you can't find it at that Greek shop, ask the Turk at the painted door on the corner; if he doesn’t have it, don’t bother looking! You won’t find it."
This relationship, based on respect for the rights of both sides, began to be affected by a coercive and prohibitive approach in the 1970s, especially in bureaucracy and its various branches. The harmonious relationship between Turks and Greeks, which had developed without issues based on identity until the 1960s, suddenly became reduced to a political laboratory, where both communities' thought processes were reshaped, and the "Muslim-Christian" label, deemed more useful for realpolitik objectives, was imposed. This politically charged notion, which was implemented using different methods for both communities, led to various issues, including discrimination, both in favor and against. During this period, constitutional rights and universal declarations were shelved, and while the Turkish minority in Western Thrace was prohibited from purchasing property, the properties belonging to them were practically presented as spoils to the other community. This unlawful practice led to the establishment of a "superiority law" psychology in one segment of society against the other. The Turkish minority, placed in a passive position, was accused of being a "fifth column" and a fictitious enemy was created in the eyes of the other community. While this mindset did not affect all Greeks, it had a significant impact on a segment of our Greek citizens, who were more susceptible to such suggestions. As a result, insults written on the doors of Turks and threat-laden slogans painted on walls created a potential enemy image in the consciences of many Greek citizens. Thus, serious fractures were created between the two communities, and the spirit of solidarity that had existed for decades was significantly damaged.
Previously, what was known as the Turkish minority by the local population, through the active work of the local bureaucracy, was transformed into a different identity – not just “Muslim,” but also "Hellenic Muslim." The alignment of the Greek-descended local citizens with the official line of the state was, if not pressure, a result of various suggestions. This shift in attitude only affected the Greeks within the borders of Western Thrace. The ghettoization plan implemented in Western Thrace did not have any impact on the Turkish minorities in other parts of the country.
People belonging to the Turkish minority were identified as "Turkish" across the country and treated as of Turkish descent. In general, the respect for the identity and belonging of the minority, except for the minority-focused bureaucracy, remained almost unchanged, whether in southern or northern Greece. Even today, in Athens, the Peloponnese, Crete, and Macedonia, despite official statements, the Turkish community in Western Thrace is still regarded as Turkish by the Greek population. In fact, in the early 1990s, when I was talking to a dear friend from Larisa, who passed away three years ago, I asked him, "What do they think about us there, how do they speak of us?" He smiled softly and answered in a loving tone:
"Don’t pay attention to what they say here. Don’t get confused, Yakup!" he said, continuing, "You’re known as Turks everywhere in Greece. Every time I go to Larisa, people ask me if I get along with the Turks. Let me tell you this much, your identity only starts to become a problem when you cross the Karasu (Nestos) River."
Similarly, following the attacks on the Turkish minority in Gümülcine in 1990, the then interim Prime Minister Zolatas, whether by mistake or because his words reflected his true beliefs, tried to amend his statement when he realized that he referred to the Turks in Gümülcine as "the Turks." He tried to rephrase it as "the Turks on the other side," but by then, the words had already been spoken, and there was little he could do.
In 1989, prior to the general elections in Greece, the identity of the minority was a hot topic in the election debate. On one hand, independent candidates were shouting out our identity, while on the other, Greek-descended candidates tried to appeal to the Turkish voters, hoping to get their share. One figure from the right-wing politics, when we discussed our identity, turned to me and said:
"Ultimately, I know you’re Turkish, but there’s no need to announce it. Because it harms you."
This discriminatory understanding that was imposed back then was fueled by the "Speak Greek" signs on the doors of government offices. Yet, many of our Greek neighbors, who had a conscience, never paid attention to such warnings. During that period, in our mixed neighborhood where Turks and Greeks lived together, one day around noon, the voice of a street vendor selling vegetables could be heard calling out in broken Turkish:
"Patlitzan var, domates var, karpuz var!"(We sell eggplant, tomato, watermelon!"
At that moment, we heard the familiar voice of Marianthi, a kind-hearted Greek neighbor, asking in Turkish, unaware that the vendor was Greek:
"Patlitzan kats para?" (How much does the eggplant cost?)
In the late 2000s, while I was working at the University of Athens, a group of professors and I were having coffee. The conversation turned to the Turkish community in Western Thrace. One of the professors turned to his colleague and said "The Turks of Thrace." Immediately realizing his mistake, he stopped and smiled at me, saying "Oh, sorry, I was caught off guard."
"No problem," I replied. "It’s not your fault. After all, you’re also victims of the same mechanisms."
Today, our Greek citizens in Western Thrace avoid using the term "Turk" to refer to us. When they mention organizations like the Xanthi Turkish Union, they refer to it simply as "TEX" (Tourkiki Enosi Xanthis [Xanthi Turkish Union]) to avoid using the term "Turk."
In conclusion, these semi-official, semi-clandestine bans that have been applied for over fifty years have not only harmed us but, without a doubt, have also caused distress to our Greek citizens, albeit not to the same extent. We know that they are also tired of pretending, but they are well aware that if they do not adhere to this rule, they will face some repercussions. Indeed, they occasionally admit this situation.