A Journey Through Anatolian Socialism via Abu Dhar al-Ghifari, Nurettin Topçu, and Adem Yakar

On Sunday morning, 30 October 2025, while discussing our economic and political situation, bank loans, making money without working, and the problems arising from money making money, I mentioned my brother Adem Yakar, a member of the Central Executive Committee of the Turkish Socialist Workers' Party, to Meryem. I made a note on my X account to write down my conversations with the deceased. This summer, my brother İsmail Üret, whom I met in Çandarlı and with whom I became friends, called me and said that he also came from the same tradition, so I said, ‘This must be comradeship.’

Rejection of the ‘Colonialist Use of the Mind’

Life is but a breath; when I speak of my comradeship with the thinker, I am actually sharing my own journey. During my high school years, while reading about Turkish Nationalism through Ziya Gökalp, we would also discuss texts from the Marxist tradition in the ‘Sungurlu Turan Mahallesi Obası.’ Later, this neighbourhood's name became ‘Akçay,’ how nice! I attempted a self-critique on the transformation of the idealist accumulation through Arvasi, in the context of the MHP-BBP split: ‘Turkish-Islamic Synthesis’ or ‘Turkish Islamic Idealism?’ We are discussing it with friends, and I will publish it afterwards, God willing.

Let me talk about our process of trying to resist the material and spiritual, i.e., the colonialist use of reason, using my brother, Adem Yakar, a modern dervish, a Melami-style ‘socialist,’ as an example.

When I say ‘Colonialist Use of Reason,’ I am referring to Jonardon Ganari's "In most of South America, Africa, and Southeast Asia, Europe; India and the rest of South Asia, the Gulf, North America, the Southeast Asian Islands in the context of Britain, Central Asia, the Baltic and the Caucasus in the context of the Soviet Union/Russia, Denmark in the context of the Scandinavian countries; Japan in the context of Korea, Taiwan and China. The ‘colonial use of reason’ refers not to the use of reason in the ancient world or before modernity, but to the colonial use of reason by the philosophical giants of the 18th and 19th centuries, who presented themselves as impartial, objective and universal, thereby providing the moral and intellectual foundations for colonialism. According to Ganori, these are the first deceptions, while "the second deceptions were a form of defence against rival claims from outside, based on claims of impartiality and universality. In this use of reason, rather than engaging in an honest debate as one philosopher would do with another, it relied on the complete rejection of the other's claim. (https://www.dibace.net/aklin-somurgeci-kullanimi-ve-dogunun-felsefi-hafizasi-mevlut-uyanik/? fbclid=IwY2xjawOY9epleHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEeRpMOE8KZ9DRxjs_3C4i4zdPqpZ5ZVIitDNrIX -uviKDfAwv68X1ihEniM1M_aem_ZCVXMIHjss8WUYCjMsW7XQ=)

A Theologian Socialist

We would discuss labour, property, capital, private ownership, Islam and socialism, and Marxism with Adem Yakar and Abu Dharr. My brother from Tokat would stop by when passing through Çorum. When chatting with the young people, he mentioned that I was a socialist, and they were surprised when he said Mevlüt. Until then, we had been talking about the Unity of Being and Ibn Arabi. When they asked how I had acquired such a wealth of knowledge in theology, he introduced me as his classmate. You're right, you haven't seen a socialist at peace with the Islamic culture that shaped these lands, he said naturally. Yet, we had quite a few conversations with your teacher about Abu Dhar al-Ghifari. We both value his opposition to exploitation and the updating of his revolutionary spirit. Then we discussed Anatolian socialism through Nurettin Topçu, read Ali Shariati, and talked about what could be done to achieve social justice in these lands.

When the conversation became too technical, he mentioned the resistance in Istanbul, how the young police officers were well-acquainted with the ‘step back, brother, don't get tear-gassed’ warning, and how he hadn't received his tear-gas dose that day. He mentioned praying the noon prayer at the Grand Mosque and seeing the attendant waiting outside. He said, ‘Look, now I'll slip out the other door, you won't even notice. Why don't they assign someone who prays? Or come inside, there's peace there.’ Now I'm going to visit my brother Mevlüt at the Faculty of Theology. If you happen to lose him, tell them what he said." The young people in the room were at a loss for words. My brother Adem was such a pleasant person.

He came to my room in Çorum with the name/attribute of Âdem, ‘He sang like a nightingale in the garden of paradise,’ my brother. As he was leaving the room, he asked, ‘What happened? Who did you give the thesis topic “Et-Tedbiratu'l-İlahiyye” to?’ My late teacher Emin Acar would ask, ‘How many graduates did you produce?’ He wasn't interested in the number, but rather how many people you had advanced to the next level. The question ‘What subjects did you teach?’ would follow. If there was a young person in your field who you hadn't advanced to the next level, i.e., the master's level, that year, then you hadn't done your job properly. I had such civil examiners. Both of them have passed away, so I'm free from questioning, I suppose. I'm annoyed that Tedbirat-ı İlahiyye is presented as a Sufi book; I said a few years ago that it was a book on political philosophy, and he followed up on that observation.

1983; Ankara Faculty of Theology

The year I was in the same class and row as Adem. If my teacher Hüseyin Atay hadn't become dean and introduced a ‘Black Sea invention’ that everyone had to sit according to their number, I don't know if we would have met. I got to know my brother when we were forced to sit next to each other; otherwise, I had no connection with the ‘Islamist youths’ he hung out with, except for a few (the late Kazım Sever, my friends at Ankara School and Fecr Publishing House). Before Professor Atay's strange practice, I didn't come to the faculty much anyway, because the lectures were monotonous and the professor would read from the book, or now they read from slides, which is the first form of that. Why should I come? I'd read that book anyway, I thought. When I started attending classes out of necessity, my friend Âdem was the new arrangement, but after a while he was expelled from the faculty and could never return. Allow me to explain why they were expelled.

You Know Max Weber's Shoe Size, But You Know Nothing About Our Prophet!

We were in Professor M. Rami Ayas's Sociology of Religion class. In the middle of the lecture, a friend stood up and protested using the above statement. At first, the professor didn't understand, but then a few more people voiced their objections loudly. My professor was a calm person. He said, ‘Okay, tell me your name and leave if you're protesting.’ A few people left. Adem was next to me, holding his finger up the whole time. Well, the point was made, the friends left, and the professor understood the protest. I said, ‘Put your hand down.’

Adem didn't pay any attention to me. The professor thought he was going to ask something, probably thinking the class would return to normal. ‘Go ahead,’ he said. Adem said, ‘I think like my friends, write down my name,’ and left. These friends were suspended for a while, most returned except Adem. Years passed, I became an assistant in speech and Islamic philosophy, and one day I saw Adem, I was very happy. I asked him why he hadn't taken advantage of the amnesty, and he said no. I sent him off, telling him to definitely apply next time. He finished it, however many years later, and afterwards we met occasionally, our contact never broke, until 8 April 2024.

Socialist Attitude: Social Justice for the Victims, the Oppressed, and the Down-and-Out

I dedicated Sunday morning to recounting my philosophical journey through my brother Adem. Perhaps, in line with the cultural closeness between Çorum and Tokat, our conversation began with Abu Dhar. In high school, alongside my readings on Marxism as a strong opposing ideology, while studying Islamic political philosophy, I increased my readings on civil disobedience to minimise the impact of the 28 February 1997 trauma.

While attending meetings centred around the Liberal Thought Society, I felt the need to increase my readings on economics and politics, i.e., directly on economics. I thus undertook the simplification of Sakızlı Ohannes Efendi's scholarly work ‘Mebadiu İlm-i Servet’; it was not published at the time, but will soon be released by Post Publishing House, and it contained sections on communism and socialism.

John M. Keynes's statement, ‘The ideas of economists and political philosophers, whether right or wrong, are more powerful than is commonly understood. Indeed, the world is ruled by them. In fact, it is these ideas that largely govern the world,’ has never left my mind since then. When political economy is defined as the study of the distribution of the product of labour among the classes that participate in its creation, Karl Marx's critique of political economy came back to my attention. For he focused on this throughout his life and saw political economy as the theoretical analysis of contemporary bourgeois society.

The historical grounding of this choice in Turkish intellectual history is, as you know, Ahmet Mithat's economic articles titled Economics (1880/1296) in the newspaper Tercüman-ı Hakikat. My attempt to interpret Hasan Basri's passive opposition as civil disobedience led me to focus on the formation of early political philosophy.

I recall academically reading about Abu Dharr al-Ghifari and discussing him with Adem on one occasion. In fact, if we recall the Prophet's stance during the formative period, based on his membership in the Hilfu'l-Fudul society, which was active in solving problems, particularly economic ones, in the Arab society before our Prophet, during the Dar'ün-Nedve and the Jahili period, Abu Dharr's struggle after the Prophet's death can be understood as the theoretical basis for Nurettin Topçu's Anatolian Socialism, Kemal Tahir's vision, and Ali Shariati's struggle in Iran today.

Indeed, the Prophet first attempted to implement social reforms. From a socio-economic perspective, these reforms, aimed at empowering the weak and oppressed, the poor, orphans, women, and slaves, required the assumption of political power. The opposition of the Meccan merchants and the ruling class to this and their significant proposals to integrate it into the existing corrupt system can be understood in this context, as he rejected these proposals, stating that even if they offered him the moon and the sun, he would not deviate from the right path. This is because the religious, political, and economic reforms put forward by our Prophet could, compared to other tribes, restore the power of the sons of Hashim. The fact that the Prophet came from the Banu Hashim branch of the Quraysh tribe, his ancestor Kusay, and the Dar al-Nadwa practice had unsettled the other tribes in this context.

For this reason, instead of a religious/political leader, they offered him an influential position in the city council of Mecca. The fact that he stated he would accept the condition of faith offered by the aristocrats and wealthy of Mecca if they marginalised his poor and weak followers shows that the situation was economic-political. Indeed, when he moved from Mecca to Medina in 622, the introduction of zakat/tax liability to rectify the situation of the poor, free them from chronic debt, and develop defence capabilities and other social services demonstrates the impact of the economic-political dimension of the reforms. Moreover, he implemented social reforms such as regulating the inheritance rights of women, who were among the most disadvantaged groups, and regulating marriage and divorce. As a result, when he returned to Mecca in 630, he was met with unresisting submission. Delegations representing Arab tribes flocked to him. Indeed, when he passed away in 632, he was the de facto and effective prophet-leader of the entire Arabian Peninsula. As can be seen, the leadership of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) was the form in which he fulfilled his prophetic duty.

In short, in the person of the Prophet Muhammad, the state emerged as a reflection of the moral and spiritual values of Islam. Its fundamental characteristic is transparency. It is a transparent instrument that disappears when it is respected; that is, the state is not an ‘extension’ of religion (as Islamists claim). However, despite the Prophet's final proclamation in his Farewell Sermon of the fundamental principles that would serve as an example to all humanity in the context of human rights and freedoms (love of humanity, equality, social justice, economic justice, truthfulness and solidarity), the Umayyads soon reversed these principles and removed transparency from the state, transforming the state into an ‘extension’ of religion. This shift in focus during their centuries-long reign was continued by the Abbasids. Therefore, it is inconsistent to focus on the Umayyads and overlook the fact that the Abbasids reinforced the status quo and continued it for centuries.

(Fazlur Rahman, ‘Islam and Political Action: Politics in the Service of Religion,’ Political Thought in Islam, edited and translated by Kazım Güleçyüz, (Istanbul: İnsan Yayınevi 1995), 7-8.30, Mevlüt Uyanık, Turkish Civilisation as a Symbol of the Inconsistency of the East-West Divide - A Reading Based on Aliya Izetbegović and Cemil Meriç - http://www.turkmedeniyeti.org/2197/turk-medeniyeti-uzerine-dusunceler; Prophet Muhammad and the Concept of Social Justice -An Attempt to Read Hılfu’l-Fudul as a ‘Conflict Resolution Centre and a Civil Society Organisation’ http://www.turkmedeniyeti.org/2186/hz-muhammed-ve-sosyal-adalet-tasavvuru)

While pursuing my master's degree at Ankara Theology, I was also taking master's courses at the ODTÜ Philosophy department. During my intensive reading of Western classics, Aristotle's view that the corruption of the state apparatus, which Plato's ideas/ideals brought down to earth, stemmed from the pursuit of status and power, but that greed for money was seen as a general source of corruption, facilitated my understanding of Islam ’s counter-revolution, which began with the Umayyads, that is, the process of transforming the system back into a patriarchal structure. I recalled that Marx also defined Aristotle as the “great thinker” who first examined many forms of thought, society, and nature, and proposed the political arrangements necessary for a good/happy life.

Aristotle's distinction between justly organised regimes and regimes dominated by tyranny, where certain interests prevail, was one of our commonalities with Adam, as Marx argued that all established forms of regime in societies based on exploitation, especially serving the interests of the ruling class. I believe this was one of the common ground we shared with Adam. It was a brotherhood based on ‘struggle and resistance against imperialism, oppression, despotism, ignorance, poverty, and misery.’

Conclusion

After seeing us off from the meeting in Çorum, the young people asked, ‘Sir, we know you are a Turkish nationalist, and he is a socialist, so how does this brotherhood work?’ I said, ‘Why didn't you ask him?’ The teacher had given a lesson centred on Leyla and Mecnun, and just as he was about to finish and leave the classroom, someone asked, ‘Was Leyla a man or was Mecnun?’ After saying that your question was similar, I quoted Hasan Ferid Cansever's observation:

"Turkish nationalism is not hostility towards non-Turkish nations. Turkish nationalism is not an action against another nation. Turkish nationalism is a struggle and a fight against imperialism, oppression, tyranny, ignorance, poverty and misery. We have no connection with political imperialism. Because the spread of the Turks across the world is conducive to their living and working happily and prosperously in their own countries for centuries." (https://www.ulkucudunya.com/index.php?page=altin-yazi-detay&kod=431)