I have a book in my hands. A book I have been eagerly waiting for days, one whose package I could hardly wait to open. I always open book packages with curiosity, but this time my excitement has a different source. Literature cannot undo what happened in the past, but through words it can create a new memory, resist oblivion, and carry shared pains and testimonies to future generations. That is where my excitement comes from. Twenty writers have penned new stories inspired by the memory of Hrant Dink, the founder of our beloved Agos, and the collective grief we have shared since his assassination on January 19, 2007.
The book was edited by writer Gaye Boralıoğlu, one of Hrant's Friends.
Amplifying Hrant's words through literature
At the heart of the book's creation was the inspiration Hrant Dink's life offers to writers and the desire to extend his words through different narratives. As the 20th anniversary of Dink's assassination approaches, Hrant's Friends began considering what special projects might be undertaken to mark the occasion. Boralıoğlu proposed an initiative in the field of literature. Hundreds of articles and books about Hrant Dink and his murder have been published over the years. Boralıoğlu, however, believes that Hrant Dink's life is itself a source of inspiration and proposed putting together an anthology of short stories. Hrant's Friends, the Dink family, the Hrant Dink Foundation, and the writers they invited all greeted the idea with enthusiasm. Thus began a collaborative project to extend Hrant Dink's words through literature.
An atlas of conscience
Boralıoğlu describes this journey as an “atlas of conscience.” In her view, remembering the Hrant Dink assassination means more than recalling a murder that took place in the past. It means preserving a living memory against forgetting the truths that have never been confronted, and against the repetition of the same mistakes and murders.
As a reader, I would say that one of the most exciting aspects of the book is that 20 writers, each with a distinctive literary world and voice, have written new stories specifically for this collection. The stories by Karin Karakaşlı, Murathan Mungan, Rıdvan Hatun, Sema Kaygusuz, Sevim Çiçek, Ayfer Tunç, Irmak Zileli, Murat Gülsoy, Melisa Kesmez, Murat Uyurkulak, Selahattin Demirtaş, Behçet Çelik, Kerem Bakıcı, Polat Özlüoğlu, Kâmil Erdem, Fethiye Çetin, Şebnem İşigüzel, Figen Alkaç, Ayşegül Devecioğlu, and Eylem Ata do more than keeping Hrant Dink's memory alive. Through new narratives, they carry his words, his struggle, and his desire for coexistence into the future.
In these stories, the voices of doves can be heard; a writer travels to Dersim to discover their roots; and the history of a horseshoe hanging on a wall is explored. In one story, someone searches for their father's Istanbul; in another, for an aunt's past. Yet another recounts an unfulfilled longing through the words, “I was going to say goodbye to you.” Each of these stories begins with the memory of Hrant Dink and speaks to a shared collective memory through different lives and experiences. I should also mention that the book includes a text by Hrant's Friends titled “Hrant's Story.” The cover illustration of the book, published by İletişim Publishing, was created by Kemal Gökhan Gürses.
We spoke with Gaye Boralıoğlu about this ongoing literary struggle against forgetting, the creation of “Freedom on His Wings: Stories for Hrant Dink”, and the relationship between literature, memory, and the pursuit of justice.
We are approaching the 20th anniversary of Hrant Dink's assassination. How did the idea for this book come about, and what was the process like?
During last year's January 19 commemorations, we were talking about how the coming year would mark an important milestone and that we would need to do things differently than we had in previous years. As Hrant's Friends, we all began coming up with suggestions about what could be done. Naturally, I also started thinking about what we might do in the field of literature. Over these 20 years, hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of articles have been written about Hrant, and many books have been published. But almost all of them have been primarily theoretical texts. At that point, the idea of a short-story anthology occurred to me. Hrant's life is so inspiring. His years in the orphanage, where he met Rakel; how two of them embarked on a shared struggle; his compassionate perspective on the Armenian question and, by extension, on those who are othered; his pursuit of justice; his search for truth as a journalist; founding Agos; his efforts to find what is lost; then the accusations against him, the public lynch orchestrated by various power circles, and ultimately his assassination through the joint efforts of those same forces...
And, of course, there were the subsequent court proceedings and his supporters, whose numbers have never dwindled but have continued to grow with each new generation. I thought all of this could inspire writers. I suggested that we could put together an anthology of stories by contemporary writers who felt a connection to these issues, stories they would write drawing inspiration from Hrant. I said I would be happy to organize such a project. Everyone, Hrant's family members, our friends at the Hrant Dink Foundation, and then all the writers I approached, welcomed the idea with tremendous enthusiasm and eagerness. Thus, we embarked together on a literary journey to give Hrant's words a wider reach.
Hrant Dink's murder and the grief surrounding it occupy a very different dimension. People who never knew him personally gradually came to know him, a collective memory took shape, and eventually we all came to grieve together. In your introductory essay, you say that this collective memory has turned into personal stories. What do you think it was about Hrant Dink's story that brought people together and affected them so deeply?
Of course, as I mentioned earlier, his extraordinary life, his decisions, his political views, his sense of morality, and his conscience all played a role. On the other hand, there have been many intellectuals in Turkey's history who were perhaps more famous than Hrant, or who were equally committed to their struggles and accomplished important things, but who were also assassinated. Sadly, most of their stories have faded and grown dim under the corrosive force of time.
I think there are several reasons why Hrant Dink has remained so present in public consciousness, even 20 years after his murder. The first and most important is that he was an extraordinarily genuine person. He expressed himself sincerely and openly, without holding anything back, and showed himself exactly as he was. Whether or not people had actually met him, anyone who knew of his existence could immediately consider themselves his friend. He had that kind of magic. Moreover, we, as Hrant's Friends, have also maintained our persistence and determination for 20 years. We are not a fixed group. People are always changing; sometimes our numbers decrease, sometimes increase. But in the end, we always reach a sufficient number of people to keep Hrant alive in the memory of this country. I believe that this determination matters, too.
“Look for a spark”
Twenty writers have penned new stories in memory of Hrant Dink. What kind of stories did you hope they would write? And I am also curious about the responses you received.
I didn't ask them to write about Hrant Dink. That has already been done extensively. What I asked was this: Look for a spark. Look for a spark in Hrant's life that will bring your own world back to life, stir your memories, and help you redefine your literary identity. Almost all the writers I contacted responded with tremendous enthusiasm and interest. A few of our colleagues were unable to take part for various practical reasons, such as scheduling or health issues. Others tried but unfortunately couldn't arrive at a final result that fully satisfied them and withdrew with regret. But the great majority wrote with enthusiasm, while also feeling considerable apprehension.
Their enthusiasm stemmed from the value they placed on Hrant. Their apprehension came from wondering whether they would be able to do justice to such an important project.
We produced a very accomplished and truly special work. Everyone approached it with a spirit of participation and collaboration. Some of my colleagues rewrote their stories; others abandoned their original attempts and wrote entirely new ones. With many of them, we also brainstormed during the writing process. Almost everyone was open to this exchange and wanted to create something they could feel truly satisfied with.
So, this was an especially meaningful and valuable way of working for me, too. I am grateful to all my colleagues, both those who participated and those who made an effort but were unable to do so.
Literature cannot compensate for justice, nor can it undo a murder committed in the past. But we know that it can resist forgetting, multiply witnesses, and keep collective memory alive. What kind of memory did you hope to leave behind with this book?
Yes, I call it an atlas of conscience. Through the stories they wrote, the writers became part of this great atlas of conscience and invited their readers to join them there.
Hrant Dink's murder was committed in full view of everyone. Just as in Marquez's novel Chronicle of a Death Foretold, everyone was a witness to this murder. Everyone actually knew who the perpetrators were: from the newspapers that fanned the flames to the police officials who buried criminal complaints, all the way to the brutal system that turned a child into a murderer. Everyone who had played a role in this crime was known.
However, it would also be wrong to reduce Hrant's identity to this murder. His ideas, his way of life, and the choices he made still have so much to say to the people of this country. We still have much to learn from him. We see traces of this in the stories, too. Every event that fails to take root in our memory, every truth that goes unaddressed, is destined to be forgotten. Then a cycle begins: mistakes are repeated, perpetrators remain hidden, and murders happen again. But only a living memory and genuine confrontation with the past can offer us the possibility of a better future. Remembering Hrant Dink also means expanding the possibilities for living together in this country.
You are also a writer yourself. What is the difference between writing on a theme chosen by someone else and writing a story that emerges from within you?
Of course, they are very different. The way you think and the creative process itself are different. But sometimes, even when writing the stories we want to write, we prioritize a particular theme, in other words, we assign ourselves a task. I have previously written stories for anthologies organized around predetermined themes, such as A Dersim Story and Among Women. The key is to internalize the subject and establish a seamless connection between the theme and your own linguistic and literary world. I believed that all the writers I invited were capable of doing this. Of course, the number of writers who could have contributed is not limited to those who participated in this anthology. If circumstances had allowed, I would have wanted to include many more names. But ultimately, every book has its limits in terms of length, and we at İletişim Publishing, Hrant's Friends, and the Hrant Dink Foundation made decisions together, through discussion and mutual agreement.
Stories that make you feel you are not alone
Let's imagine a young reader picks up this book without ever having known who Hrant Dink was. When they finish it, what would you like them to feel about him, to become curious about, or to ask?
They will probably embark on a journey: one that passes between the world of Hrant Dink and that of the writer whose story they are reading, before extending into the pathways of their own inner universe. They will feel that their world has expanded, that new doors have opened, and, most importantly, that they are not alone.
Of course, this is not an experience based solely on meaning or ideas. Each of these stories has been written by a masterful hand, and their literary quality is very high. Readers will therefore also experience the pleasure of immersing themselves in outstanding works of literature.
If we can create echoes in a fresh mind about Hrant Dink, and through him awaken questions about concepts such as justice, freedom, compassion for others, and coexistence, we will feel even more convinced of the value of what we have done.
When the book was complete, what feelings remained with you? As an editor and a writer, do you feel there is something you have been able to say to Hrant Dink through this book?
When the book was finished, the apprehension I had been carrying inside me dissipated, giving way to a pleasant exhaustion and a sense of inner peace that comes to a person only rarely. I believe this book is not a fleeting literary exercise, but a long-lasting work that will endure for years, perhaps even become part of history. I also believe there is nothing quite like it in its genre. Of course, many short-story anthologies have been prepared around particular themes. But, as far as I know, there has never been an anthology that places one person at its center and sets out from that person's world to open up entirely new universes.
While preparing the book, I tried to ensure that everything was flawless and went smoothly, both during the writing of the stories and in the subsequent editing process. I also followed a particular logic when arranging the stories, trying to create a continuous flow for readers who would read the book from beginning to end.
Our editorial colleagues at İletişim Publishing were also extremely meticulous and attentive. Kemal Gökhan Gürses crowned the project with the illustration he created for the cover.
And so, together, we were able to call out to Hrant once again:
“We are here, ahparig!”
