Teachers of Turkish history in particular will be very grateful for this concise and accessible study of one of the most enduring national leaders of the twentieth century. As the title suggests, the emphasis is upon the intellectual milieu within which Atatürk emerged and governed, and less on the actual events associated with his life. It is a book that complements very well the much longer and denser biography of Atatürk written by Andrew Mango.
There are few if any other scholars who could have undertaken such a comprehensive intellectual biography of Atatürk. Drawing as he does on his former encyclopaedic works on late Ottoman intellectual trends (The Young Turks in Opposition and Preparation for a Revolution) Hanioğlu surprises in his ability to make this complex history intelligible through the lens of one great leader. Reflecting his intimate familiarity with the many forces that contributed to the shaping of Atatürk's intellect, Hanioğlu is able to qualify the intense admiration that Turks have for Atatürk by demonstrating that in fact he was not an original thinker, nor did he bring about a rupture with the past. Rather he was very much a product of his time, remarkably skilled at seizing on the opportunities that came his way and able to manipulate circumstances such that he succeeded at utilizing his Utopian view of the past to shape a vision for the future.
Hanioğlu's approach to Atatürk is helpful and refreshing. On the one hand, he continues the tradition of relying heavily on Atatürk`s speeches to interpret his understanding of the world and his intentions as leader of an emerging nation-state. On the other, Hanioğlu dissects and analyses these with a thoroughness and critical acumen that allow us to understand just how Atatürk managed to emerge as the dominant figure in the new Turkey. Although Hanioğlu does not hesitate to praise Atatürk's accomplishments, this contextualization of the implementation of his ideas manages to move the narrative beyond the hagiographic and unproductive images of Atatürk as the sole “great man” that have been so dominant.
Particularly valuable in this regard is Hanioğlu's treatment of how Turkism and scientism contributed to Atatürk's vision for a “secular” nation-state. Hanioğlu, of course, is more interested in the ideas behind Atatürk's reforms than in their implementation, but here we note evidence of hubris in how he approaches the topic. While he concentrates on a careful analysis of primary sources relating to Atatürk's ideas, he scarcely acknowledges the increasingly rich scholarship that has recently begun to explore the impact of these ideas on Turkish society. Rarely does he reference this, even in his notes; and yet it constitutes an important part of the story, and by choosing to ignore the work of other scholars Hanioğlu contributes to the aura of infallibility surrounding Atatürk that he is implicitly challenging.
This neglect of the broader field is particularly notable in the fact that even as Hanioğlu expertly dissects Atatürk's bold Turkish nationalism, there is silence with regard to its impact before and after the establishment of the Turkish Republic. Today, a wide range of scholars are exploring the complex and contested history of minorities that inevitably relates to Turkish nationalism. However, Hanioğlu completely ignores the matter.
Two examples illustrate this well. In his treatment of the First World War, Hanioğlu naturally concentrates on the Gallipoli campaign in 1915 before touching briefly on Atatürk's subsequent role in eastern Anatolia. However, the historiography of this period and the debate about whether or not the term “genocide” is appropriately applied to the devastation of Anatolia's Christian minorities are matters that biographers of Atatürk cannot ignore. So far Atatürk has remained largely absent from the debate, if only because he was not directly involved in the events of 1915. Nevertheless, he was a product of the same nationalism that led to the tragedy. Moreover, he himself was dispatched to south-eastern Anatolia in the early spring of 1916, where he cannot but have witnessed the outcome of what had taken place. Surely in the midst of his voluminous correspondence and writings there must be evidence of his reactions to and thoughts about the impact of this Turkish nationalism on the Christian population?
Similarly, there is the question of Atatürk's attitudes towards the Kurdish population of Anatolia. Hanioğlu does a fine job exploring the many facets of Turkish nationalism, yet only occasionally do Kurds enter the narrative. Yet recent scholarship has left no doubt that the nationalism that came to be articulated during Atatürk's presidency had a tremendous impact on the lives of Kurds throughout Anatolia. It is an impact that is still in evidence today, even as Turkish nationalism takes on new dimensions in the changing context of new eras.
The point is that by not engaging the broader scholarship that today addresses the larger debates that define the field of modern Middle Eastern history, Hanioğlu is avoiding issues that were ultimately critical to the emergence of the Turkish nation-state. Atatürk was an important figure not only in the shaping of the new state, but also in articulating and implementing Turkish nationalism. These are some of the most difficult issues in our field today, and we need scholars of Hanioğlu's calibre to contribute to our understanding of how they came about. Unless studies of Atatürk – including intellectual biographies – help us to understand his own engagement with these critical trends and events, then scholars run the risk of reinforcing the sanitized version of the history of the emerging Turkish nation-state that has now lost legitimacy.
