Mustafa Kemal's enemies said they were lovers, for Arif was the only person for whom Mustafa Kemal showed open affection, putting his arm round his shoulders and calling him endearing names. Others were convinced they were relatives, for Arif was almost a double of Mustafa Kemal.
şu ayağı yere basmayan cümlelerle adama saldırmak.. neyse..
He learnt ball-room dancing, methodically with a teacher, and then danced whenever possible, but always as if he was on parade. He frequented the drawing-rooms and tried to become the society gallant, making love to the ladies of Sofia, but they found him excessively gauche. He was a smartly turned-out and wellset-up Turkish officer and that was all. They had no liking for Turks, at any time, and Mustafa Kemal was neither good-looking nor attractive. His manners were crude. Either he stalked stiffly about with his face set and grey, or he talked abruptly. He had no small talk, no easy gallantry or ready flattery. He understood nothing of the pleasant play of light flirtation. He bluntly demanded that each lady should bed with him; if she refused he ceased to be interested, but, as bluntly, asked another. For a short time he was half in love with a fluffy-haired pretty girl, the daughter of General Kovatchev, but she gave him the cold shoulder. Very soon the ladies found him an uncouth fellow, the traditional Tartar in contrast to Fethi, the suave, polite, easygoing
Turk. They laughed at his dancing and his attempts to learn the drawing-room manner. They found him a prodigious bore and forgot him.
And Mustafa Kemal, touchy and sensitive, became more lofty and aloof than ever. He began to hate the society women with their soft ways and their chatter, who would not make love wholeheartedly and yet teased and tormented his desire, who sneered at him, and who would not make a hero of him.
With men-and especially men who were deferential-and with the loose women of the capital, Mustafa Kemal was far more at ease. With these, in the cafes and the brothels, he drank and revelled night after night far into the dawn. He gambled and diced for hours against anyone who would sit
Enver was always inspired by great ideas, by far-flung schemes. The big idea absorbed him. He cared nothing for details, facts or figures.
Mustafa Kemal was cautious. He was suspicious of brilliancy. Big vague ideas did not rouse him. His objectives were limited, and undertaken only after long and careful consideration and calculation. He wanted exact facts and figures. He had no sympathy with and no ability at handling Arabs or any foreigners.
He was a Turk, and proud of being a Turk; he despised the rest of the world.
yav he&he anonim ltd. şirketi.. (=
Fundamentally he was a revolutionary with no respect for God, man or institution. Nothing was established; nothing sacred to him.
what's source material? armstrong's ass.. lol.
MUSTAFA KEMAL was twenty, wiry in build, with a tough constitution and unlimited vitality.
He had no experience of life. Salonika had been a mean little port; Lazaran a country village; Monastir a dull provincial town. He had none of his mother's deep beliefs or principles to keep him steady.
At once he plunged wildly into the unclean life of the great metropolis of Constantinople. Night after night he gambled and drank in the cafes and restaurants. With women he was not fastidious. A figure, a face in profile, a laugh, could set him on fire and reaching out to get the woman, whatever she was.
Sometimes it would be with the Greek and Armenian harlots in the bawdy-houses in the garbage-stinking streets by Galata Bridge, where came the pimps and the homosexualists to cater for all the vices; then for a week or two a Levantine lady in her house in Pangaldi; or some Turkish girl who came veiled and by back-ways in fear of the police to some maison de rendez-vous in Pera or Stambul.
He fell in love with none of them. He was never sentimental or romantic. Without a pang of conscience he passed rapidly from one to the next. He satisfied his appetite and was gone.
He was completely Oriental in his mentality: women had no place in his life except to satisfy his sex. He plunged deep down into the lecherous life of the city. Suddenly he reacted from all this rioting and concentrated on his work with the same energy.
Saçmalardan Seçmeler..
In the thirteenth century after Christ there came the Great Drought. From the Wall of China throughout all Central Asia the land was cracked and parched for want of rain, and the tribes were on the move searching for new pastures for their flocks. Among them were the Osmanli Turks, whose chief, Sulyman Shah, carried on his banner the head of the Grey Wolf.
They were cruel and primitive, these Osmanli Turks, animalstrong with slit eyes in flat Mongol faces. They were as brutal and relentless as the grey wolves which hunted over the wide steppes of the fierce countries of Central Asia. Yet they were disciplined, by the dangers and risks of their nomad life, to rigid obedience under their leaders.
For centuries they had pitched their black horse-hair tents in the Plains of Sungaria on the edge of the Gobi Desert. Forced by lack of water and grass, Sulyman Shah led out his people and made westward. Finding the Hordes of Tartars to his north and pressing in behind him, he turned south, and so came, through Armenia into Asia Minor, into Modern History.
Sulyman died and Ertoghrul reigned in his stead, and after him came Emir Othman and Sultan Orchan, and from father to son ten generations of sultans followed each other. Often brutal and vicious, often unjust and bestial, they were rulers, leaders of men, and generals.
They found in front of them a world of dying empires, the decayed Seljuk, the worn-out Arab Empire of Baghdad and of the Caliphs, and the corrupted Byzantine. These they smashed and conquered.
Within three hundred years of the death of Sulyman Shah, his tenth descendant, Sultan Sulyman the Magnificent, the Law Giver, ruled with justice and strength an immense empire which stretched from Albania on the Adriatic coast to the Persian
frontier, from Egypt to the