Kemal Atatürk and the Kökdemir Family

This article is written by Bülent Atalay.

My maternal grandfather, Bahattin Kökdemir, born in Sinop, on the Black Sea, was a young physician who had received his medical degree in Istanbul. Shortly after graduation in 1915, he married my grand- mother, Refika. They had three children — the first child, a son named, Ertugrul Pertev, was born in 1916; their second child, my mother, Nigar Esma Atalay, would be born three years later; the third child, Hüsrev, would come almost a gener- ation later, in 1938. (My grandfather had, however, been married once before, but that marriage had ended in divorce. From that marriage he had also a son and a daughter.) The family posed for a portrait in Istanbul (ca 1921), my uncle approxi- mately five, my mother just two. My grand- father is seen wearing the customary fez, my grandmother a scarf over her head...

When my parents first met, my mother was only seventeen years old, my father 25. She was a student in a local school, and my father, a young officer on temporary assignment, teaching military science at a nearby high school. It was not long before they became enamored with each other, but maintained a proper dis- tance. Much, much later my father would confess to me, rather sheepishly, that they had once met secretly, having arranged to meet in front of the movie theater in the downtown square, Ulus Meydani. There they would see a film together, come out of the theater, still maintaining the most proper decorum, and then bid good-bye. But they would not forget each other. One day a few months later, my father, uncommonly bashful, made an unusually brazen move. He telephoned my grandfa- ther, the physician, and arranged for a pri- vate visit – not seeking any professional service. He was there to ask for my moth- er’s hand in marriage. He explained to my grandfather that his own father had died in WWI, that he himself was a military officer who received a modest, but dependable salary, but that each month he faithfully gave a portion of his salary to his widowed mother. My grandfather was impressed by the personal visit — untraditional in that no go-betweens were involved. He had seen during his years in America that intermedi- aries were not involved in asking for a girl’s hand. But about giving his blessings to the marriage, he admitted his reticence, “I don’t want my only daughter to be married to a soldier who might get killed one of these days, and leave her a widow. I must take this under advisement. I will get back to you.” Then after a pause, he continued, “Please, call us in a month.” He even gave a date for my father to call again...

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