What is an archive, and how does it relate to our sense of history and, moreover, to our sense of the present? This question stands at the interstices of bureaucracy, historiography, and memory. Needless to say, it is also a highly political question. This article deals with the politics of archives, specifically as it manifests itself in Turkey. My aim in looking at the problem of archives is to further raise questions about the relation of history, memory, and truth. The politics of archives is a significant topic today, not only in Turkey, but also, for example, in many post-communist countries, regarding which past records of the old totalitarian regimes should be made public in the age of so-called democracy. In this respect, archives are not only the concerns of historians who are interested in recovering the past, but also of political rulers who aim to frame the past for present purposes.

This paper is about the process of constituting public memory and subjectivity in the context of post-colonial transformation. It hopes to raise a number of questions about the context in which memory is produced and how context affects the way such memory is then transmitted. It argues that the process of memory cannot be truly understood without including emotions in the analysis. I will attempt to show that, when memory is considered in conjunction with emotions, what gets told might often become destabilized by what gets transmitted. I will show, firstly, that memories recounted in life story interviews become part of the process of generational transmission and, secondly, that these memories are anchored to emotions which become the main content of transmission. And yet, because of the way emotions circulate in discourse, emotions get separated from the objects they were attached to in the original discourse and thus destabilize the process of transmission.

The establishment of the Turkish Republic in 1923 marks the official construction of a new community and new forms of belonging that were expected to replace the communities and forms of belonging characteristic of the Ottoman Empire. The convention signed at the end of the First World War on January 30, 1923, concerning “the compulsory exchange of Turkish nationals of the Greek Orthodox Religion established in Turkish territory, and of Greek nationals of the Muslim religion established in Greek territory” can be seen as the hallmark of this republican attempt to create a new homogenized republican community called the nation. Exchanging populations meant the mutual exclusion of the largest ethnic and religious minority groups from the post-World War I nationalized lands of Greece and Turkey.

Nınçir mangig im sirasun, Oror yem asum, Baydzar lusinn e meğm hayum, Ko ororotsum.

By analyzing the transmission of Armenian lullabies within the changing contexts of identity and cultural politics in Turkey, this paper addresses displacement and loss as two interrelated experiences shaping the sense of being an Armenian in Turkey. I criticize the liberal multiculturalist perspective that represents cultures in a way that cuts the link between the past and the present, by dissociating different cultures from the history of their presence in Anatolia and the destruction of that presence. I argue that in such a context where cultures are detached from lived experiences and memory, it becomes impossible to share the stories of violence and pain in the public sphere; hence, the loss itself becomes the experience of being Armenian. Finally, I try to explain how today young generations of Armenians in İstanbul, in their search for an Armenian identity, have developed a certain way of belonging to the space and culture, a way of belonging that is very much shaped by the experience of loss.

From a folkloristic point of view, memory is a repertoire, a potential knowledge that we store, only to perform when we choose. The selective process that defines what to tell is in folklore a function of the performance context. Why we choose to tell a particular story depends on who listens to it and how it is situated within the performative event. From an archeological-historical perspective, however, what we choose to preserve in our landscapes, archives and museums reflects choices made through historical-political processes. Within this framework, for an ethnographer in search of memory, there is an ongoing dialogue between narratives on what people remember and the material cultural context in which these narratives are produced. This essay is an attempt at writing an ethnography of memory in a small Black Sea town, Tirebolu/Tripoli, whose material culture and demographic structure radically changed since the 1900s through the effects of war, harsh climate, forces of modernization, and nationalism. To sum up very briefly, communities in Tirebolu—Muslims and non-Muslims alike—have been displaced at different times, temporarily or permanently since the First World War.