Dagger with Sheath | Turkish | 19th century | Met Museum
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it is imp to remember that this is not about religion and the ethnic cleansing of artsakh proves this. all oppressive regimes are connected regardless of religion and that is why azerbaijan and israel have good relations. another example is saudi arabia having good relations with america and israel while also killing other muslims in yemen.
interestingly, like israel, saudi also uses religion to gain credibility (recently got holy mosque imam to give statement condemning boycotts and encouraging muslims to not be involved in the situation in palestine) and recruit muslim supporters from all over the world, while simultaneously killing/imprisoning muslim critics of the kingdom.
similarly, israel sells itself as a safe haven for jews and convinces jews around the world to migrate to israel while also simultaneously criminalizing antizionist jews all over the world, even suggesting that theyre not 'real jews' (reminiscent of takfirism which is a core part of saudi wahabi ideology) [ fun fact: the house of saud came into power in arabia with help from the british, just like the zionists in palestine! ]
oppressive regimes are directly connected and mirror each other in several ways. this is why liberation and resistance movements need to unite and work together across the world
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getting to know my oc, kaya (intimately)! he's a cunning ottoman thief who avoids all responsibility
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Yaqub Qamar Ad-din Dibiazah, Khalid Kashmiri, Khidir Karawita, Ismail Ahmad Khanabawi, Usman Abdul Jalil Shisha, Muhammad Sumbul
They are the Ottoman Empire's eepiest soldiers. They will conquer the world...after a quick nap.
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Some thought Roxelana used seductive powers, even potions, to induce the love Suleyman appeared to bear her. They called her witch. — Leslie Peirce, Empress of the East: How a European Slave Girl Became Queen of the Ottoman Empire
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i need leftists to cope with their post 9/11 + Iraq/Afghan wars Islamophobia guilt in a way that doesn’t involve erasing the fact that, like it or not, Islam is a proselytizing religion that has fueled centuries of colonization, genocide, and imperialism. idealizing Islam as a purer, better alternative to Christianity is in itself Islamophobic, and it also ignores the many communities who have suffered at the hands of Islamic imperialism. it is possible to not be Islamophobic while acknowledging that.
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#TwoForTuesday on #TilesOnTuesday:
Tile Decorated with a Fountain between Two Parrots, 1580s
Iznik kilns, Bursa Province, Türkiye (Ottoman Empire)
Fritware with white, green, blue, red, and transparent glazes
on display at Baltimore Museum of Art
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Király bath, Budapest, 1975. From the Budapest Municipal Photography Company archive.
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Magnificent Century is wonderful and hilarious and worrying.
I kid you not, as a result of a Political Geography assignment, my WHOLE FAMILY is now watching this show together.
And I am quite worried about it, because we're enjoying it A LOT for a lot of... different reasons, but also the comments on YT and what people seem to be learning/getting from it make me fear this getting popular was a terrible mistake.
Expect extensive blogging about it.
Especially since the ease of finding related tags makes me think I've come to the right place for it.
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Sultan Murad IV, redoubtable warrior and calligrapher? A calligraphic piece in Isl. Ms. 441
Calligraphic piece in nastaʻlīq (talik) signed by the calligrapher, most likely the Ottoman Sultan Murad IV (r.1623-1640). Fol.4b in Isl. Ms. 441, Islamic Manuscripts Collection
Enjoy this post from Sumeyra Dursun, 2023 Heid Fellow, drawn from her research in the Islamic Manuscripts Collection. Sumeyra is a doctoral candidate in the history of Islamic arts at Yildiz Technical University in Istanbul.
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my oc, kaya! I have no idea how his glasses stay on his nose
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VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION 2)
As of Episode 10, btw.
You CAN elaborate on your answers here.
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Things I Didn't Know I Loved // Nazim Hikmet
it’s 1962 March 28th
I’m sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
night is falling
I never knew I liked
night descending like a tired bird on a smoky wet plain
I don’t like
comparing nightfall to a tired bird
I didn’t know I loved the earth
can someone who hasn’t worked the earth love it
I’ve never worked the earth
it must be my only Platonic love
and here I’ve loved rivers all this time
whether motionless like this they curl skirting the hills
European hills crowned with chateaus
or whether stretched out flat as far as the eye can see
I know you can’t wash in the same river even once
I know the river will bring new lights you'll never see
I know we live slightly longer than a horse but not nearly as long as a crow
I know this has troubled people before
and will trouble those after me
I know all this has been said a thousand times before
and will be said after me
I didn’t know I loved the sky
cloudy or clear
the blue vault Andrei studied on his back at Borodino
in prison I translated both volumes of War and Peace into Turkish
I hear voices
not from the blue vault but from the yard
the guards are beating someone again
I didn’t know I loved trees
bare beeches near Moscow in Peredelkino
they come upon me in winter noble and modest
beeches are Russian the way poplars are Turkish
“the poplars of Izmir
losing their leaves. . .
they call me The Knife. . .
lover like a young tree. . .
I blow stately mansions sky-high”
in the Ilgaz woods in 1920 I tied an embroidered linen handkerchief
to a pine bough for luck
I never knew I loved roads
even the asphalt kind
Vera's behind the wheel we're driving from Moscow to the Crimea
Koktebele
formerly “Goktepé ili” in Turkish
the two of us inside a closed box
the world flows past on both sides distant and mute
I was never so close to anyone in my life
bandits stopped me on the red road between Bolu and Geredé
when I was eighteen
apart from my life I didn’t have anything in the wagon they could take
and at eighteen our lives are what we value least
I’ve written this somewhere before
wading through a dark muddy street I'm going to the shadow play
Ramazan night
a paper lantern leading the way
maybe nothing like this ever happened
maybe I read it somewhere an eight-year-old boy
going to the shadow play
Ramazan night in Istanbul holding his grandfather’s hand
his grandfather has on a fez and is wearing the fur coat
with a sable collar over his robe
and there’s a lantern in the servant’s hand
and I can’t contain myself for joy
flowers come to mind for some reason
poppies cactuses jonquils
in the jonquil garden in Kadikoy Istanbul I kissed Marika
fresh almonds on her breath
I was seventeen
my heart on a swing touched the sky
I didn’t know I loved flowers
friends sent me three red carnations in prison
I just remembered the stars
I love them too
whether I’m floored watching them from below
or whether I'm flying at their side
I have some questions for the cosmonauts
were the stars much bigger
did they look like huge jewels on black velvet
or apricots on orange
did you feel proud to get closer to the stars
I saw color photos of the cosmos in Ogonek magazine now don’t
be upset comrades but nonfigurative shall we say or abstract
well some of them looked just like such paintings which is to
say they were terribly figurative and concrete
my heart was in my mouth looking at them
they are our endless desire to grasp things
seeing them I could even think of death and not feel at all sad
I never knew I loved the cosmos
snow flashes in front of my eyes
both heavy wet steady snow and the dry whirling kind
I didn’t know I liked snow
I never knew I loved the sun
even when setting cherry-red as now
in Istanbul too it sometimes sets in postcard colors
but you aren’t about to paint it that way
I didn’t know I loved the sea
except the Sea of Azov
or how much
I didn’t know I loved clouds
whether I’m under or up above them
whether they look like giants or shaggy white beasts
moonlight the falsest the most languid the most petit-bourgeois
strikes me
I like it
I didn’t know I liked rain
whether it falls like a fine net or splatters against the glass my
heart leaves me tangled up in a net or trapped inside a drop
and takes off for uncharted countries I didn’t know I loved
rain but why did I suddenly discover all these passions sitting
by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
is it because I lit my sixth cigarette
one alone could kill me
is it because I’m half dead from thinking about someone back in Moscow
her hair straw-blond eyelashes blue
the train plunges on through the pitch-black night
I never knew I liked the night pitch-black
sparks fly from the engine
I didn’t know I loved sparks
I didn’t know I loved so many things and I had to wait until sixty
to find it out sitting by the window on the Prague-Berlin train
watching the world disappear as if on a journey of no return
19 April 1962
Moscow
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