An Evaluation on Üsküdar Municipality Operation and Dream City Elegy

While new "transfer" rumors were also on the agenda, according to Cumhuriyet's news yesterday, with the operation carried out in Üsküdar Municipality, 15 district mayors in Istanbul were removed from their duties and, unlike the votes given to CHP in the 2024 local elections, the number of usurped votes in the district municipalities whose administrations were transferred to the government reached 1 million 382 thousand 746.

The nationwide numbers are much higher, of course.

This operation, which reverses the ballot box results, means a "Coup" against Democracy, that is, the regime.

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Yahya Kemal, whom I met at the dinner table of our modest house in Çarşıkapı thanks to my father's friendship, in his poem called Dream City, misses the thousands of years of history and magnificence of Istanbul through the golden color that the sun creates on the building windows as it sets, and emphasizes the disappointment created by the reality of poverty.

Depicted over Üsküdar, the "Dream City" is a symbol where dream and reality, a moment reminiscent of historical grandeur and a sad poverty meet.

Today, the same city is experiencing the transformation of a dream nourished with the hope of Republic and Democracy into a nightmare!

In my article on Tuesday, when my reference to Yahya Kemal was liked very much, I made another reference, this time based on the master's second Üsküdar poem.

So that the Üsküdar tragedy will be engraved in history and the future with the "GOLDEN LETTERS" in the poem! (Note the pun!)

This time, it's an elegy, paying attention to the rhymes and trying to keep the same meter!

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DREAM CITY

Go and look from Cihangir in this season, at dusk!

Leave yourself to the dream in front of you for a while!

Because this evening is different from all evenings;

The delusion of the sun creates palaces from glass;

He asks for a god and goes into the dreamhouse of entertainment,

Suddenly he turns the windows into a fairy mansion.

The whole opposite side with these palaces of solid fire

Similar to the mutant song of three thousand years ago.

Intoxicated with the pleasure of the golden wine he drank,

Retracting from the horizon with a red bowl in hand,

Architect of light for many hundred thousand years

I dream of Üsküdar as long as it makes it prosperous like this.

All the inspiration of that god is but instantaneous;

These structures created from fire are mortal;

All of them disappear in a moment as the west darkens.

Although the reign of poor Üsküdar lasted a short time;

He does not regret what the sun has destroyed now;

The city of cypresses dives into its inner light,

In such a climate of eternal forgiveness

The beauty of gold is as undesirable as its heart.

The creation of its people makes every district a paradise

From every hill in the darkness on the opposite shore,

At night, the lamps of many sleazy houses

It reflects Üsküdar in the most accurate mirror.

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ELEMENT TO THE DREAM CITY

Go and look from Cihangir this season, in the evening!

Leave the light of the chest to the dark neighborhood!

Because this evening is different from all evenings;

The shadow of judgment fell from the broken glass.

He wants power and goes to his own courthouse,

He suddenly turns the assembly into his closed bowl.

The whole opposite side is pure fire with these edicts

Similar to the old mutant trap.

The whole inspiration of that judgment is but instantaneous;

These hastily established thrones are temporary;

All of them disappear in a moment, conscience becomes dark

The usurped robe wears out very quickly!

In such an atmosphere of eternal truth

The power of power is as undesirable as its heart.

They usurped the people's ballot box by force,

It's like they took over Üsküdar in Sinem, it's like a field.

They violated the national conscience and took the seat,

They trampled on the right to vote.

When I looked from Cihangir, the dream suddenly faded away,

The dream city in the windows turned into a dungeon.

The elected president remained imprisoned in the dark,

The national will was crushed and disappeared in silence.

From every hill in the darkness on the opposite shore,

The will of its people makes every district a paradise!