What was Sabahattin Ali’s fault? He must’ve committed a crime since he was murdered, isn’t that so. Sabahattin Ali; who is the master of Turkish literature and language, a bald, the one who loved his wife with an everlasting love, the head teacher of his daughter that he never got enough of, a confidant, a fellow and a playmate; was confessing his guilt in a poem that he wrote not long before his death:
“Turns out, how hard it is to be honourable! We didn’t want to be ignobles like those who lick the shoe of Germans one day, do a somersault with the English the next day, wave a quilted turban to the American the very next day.
We only and only prostrated before one nation. And that is our own long-suffering nation. Turns out that we commited a big sin! We have been crushed under lawful, unlawful pressures.
Like those who are the respected ones of today now, we didn’t fill our pockets, we didn’t chase titles. We didn’t invest money into local and overseas banks, we didn’t have the desires to terorize the people to own a house or apartment. We wanted nothing for ourselves in our fight. We only wanted to look for the cure of the sufferings of the millions of people who carry all the weights of this land on their shoulders.
How unforgiving a crime this was! They will almost shout behind us while walking along the road: “Do you see that traitor! He wants to remain honourable no matter what and he is ruining the harmony...”
Must it be so hard to want to live without leaving those who give us bread hungry, without leaving those who clothe us unworn, without stealing; was it supposed to be this troubled or even this dangerous? How hard it is being honourable! Bless, this nation who knows to stand up for the hard is also honourable.”