In most tales, despite being poor and bald, Keloğlan eventually either marries the sultan’s daughter or becomes a vizier. Sometimes, he even attains golden locks. After enduring countless struggles, he compensates for his shortcomings by aligning himself with power or authority. This is his ultimate goal—to reach the highest peak. His small village or town, the mother who raised him through hardship, the field he cultivates just to feed himself, or a neighbor girl—none of these will bring him happiness. Slightly better living conditions won’t satisfy him either. His eyes are fixed on whatever is the richest, the most powerful, and the most beautiful…
A Premeditated Murder: Killing Keloğlan
Keloğlan is a pure-hearted, charming, intelligent, and amiable fairy tale character. Though his name may vary, he is a widely recognized folk hero across the Turkish cultural sphere.
However, he is not an extraordinary hero with superpowers. On the contrary, he is an ordinary commoner who fills his stomach with bread and tarhana soup at a humble table. One of Keloğlan’s greatest virtues is his ability to skillfully use his luck and cunning, resorting to trickery when necessary to overcome adversity.
In most tales, despite being poor and bald, Keloğlan eventually either marries the sultan’s daughter or becomes a vizier. Sometimes, he even attains golden locks. After enduring countless struggles, he compensates for his shortcomings by aligning himself with power or authority. This is his ultimate goal—to reach the highest peak.
His small village or town, the mother who raised him through hardship, the field he cultivates just to feed himself, or a neighbor girl—none of these will bring him happiness. Slightly better living conditions won’t satisfy him either. His eyes are fixed on whatever is the richest, the most powerful, and the most beautiful…
Keloğlan, who represents the common people in the face of power, will only feel complete once he reaches the mythical summit of Mount Kaf. The bald and poor boy will fight for his dreams. Only the highest peak will bring him happiness. To reach that peak, he will resort to tricks and cunning, using his intelligence, sweet words, and luck to their fullest extent.
Ah, that never-ending desire to reach the sultan or the fairy princess/prince, that ambition to become at least a vizier in a palace, now adorned with golden locks! The feeling of never being whole without them, of always remaining incomplete and unfulfilled! And then… once he finally possesses at least one of them, the lingering sense of never truly being…
In truth, Keloğlan’s silk clothes and his throne are as borrowed as his golden hair. He is not himself. He is merely a shadow of the person he wants to be. He is “like.”
As we know, most fairy tales are both universal and local, reflecting the culture of the land where they were born. This tale of Keloğlan not only symbolizes those who attain position, power, wealth, or fame but also represents everyone who is deemed the Other by the West.
Many seats of power and countless thrones are occupied by these Keloğlans. No matter how much they gorge themselves at lavish tables, as if trying to forget the tarhana soup they once spooned at humble tables, despite the golden spoon in their hands or their newly acquired golden locks, they remain Keloğlan… They can never truly rid themselves of their Keloğlan nature.
From the Ottoman era, when certain elites saw themselves as superior to society before the Tanzimat reforms, to those who internalized this elitist perspective with the Republic, the Keloğlan psychology has persisted. The ambition to transform society in the name of modernization has produced countless Keloğlans. This pathological condition still lingers… The grotesque elites, who—driven by an orientalist mindset—admire the West they perceive as superior while looking down on the poor, the rural, and the religious as deficient… And, in contrast, the poor, the rural, and the religious who see these elites as superior.
No one is truly content with who they are! Most people imitate someone else and strive to become someone they are not. The poor, the rural, and the religious, who once opposed these grotesque elites, eventually resemble them once they attain their own golden locks. And of course, this is not just unique to Türkiye! When we zoom out to see the bigger picture, an even more unsettling reality emerges before us!
Many societies outside the United States and Europe—the self-proclaimed authorities on power, wealth, science, and civilization—are also, in a way, Keloğlan. Some of those afflicted with the Keloğlan syndrome therefore admire this arrogant authority, the Father, who scolds and belittles them. In pursuit of his approval or in an attempt to resemble him, they consciously or unconsciously demean their own lands, food, clothing, literature, cinema, music—in short, their culture, traditions, and all the rich values that define them.
Some take this so far that they bow lower and lower before this supreme authority, the Father, diminishing themselves further each time. Because if the master so desires, perhaps he will toss a small reward to this educated slave!
So What Should We Do?
Let us commit a premeditated, deliberate, and conscious murder. Let us kill the Keloğlan within us. Because unless we declare, with the most virtuous and honorable stance befitting a human being, “We want neither the sultan nor his daughter,” we will never rid ourselves of this Keloğlan nature.
Let’s face it—since the first button of our shirt has been fastened incorrectly, no matter what we do, nothing ever turns out right.
We will take pride in who we are. We will take pride in our Muslim identity and our humanity. We have every right to do so. And of course, we will grant ourselves this right. We will not seek validation from anyone who boasts about being Western, powerful, modern, or wealthy. The greatest solution is to never be ashamed of ourselves.
If we fall into the trap of those who call Native Americans savages, Africans cannibals, and Muslims fanatics, who knows how many more centuries we will live as Keloğlan? If we continue on our path with an Eastern psychology, we will never rid ourselves of the disease of envying everyone we see as superior and believing that we and our values are inadequate.
The delusion of closing our gaps by taking the sultan’s daughter, the complex of never loving ourselves, the helplessness of insecurity—these will consume us. First, we must learn to love ourselves. We must not dream of someone else’s applauding hands or words of praise. We must not be beggars for approval, validation, or recognition.
We must work, produce, and take pride in what we create with our own labor.
Our inner Keloğlan must die and remain only as a cautionary tale. There is no other way!