By Tayfun Kesgin
According to an ancient Japanese legend, there was once a single peoples living in the steppes of Central Asia. Then, out of reasons unknown, this nation was forced to split up, one part of it moving toward Anatolia and the other to the shores of the Japanese sea. Thus, out of one nation two were born; namely the Japanese and the Turkish. As far-fetched as this tale might sound, it still perfectly reflects the nostalgic notion that the Turks like to indulge in when it comes to their Asian ancestry. The rainbow-like tapestry of Anatolia, a region full of historic relevance and cultural diversity, has always been a source of great inspiration for many artists. One such collective of outstandingly innovative artists has paved the way for a musical genre dubbed Anadolu Rock (Anatolian Rock), which they have been ‘moulding’ since 1967. And yet, when Moğollar (the Mongols) kicked off their career in the blooming era of the hippie movement, they had not yet envisaged a musical fusion of east and west. It was not until they had embarked on a tour in Anatolia, when their master plan began to take shape. As they announced in 1970 in an interview, the band wanted to revolutionise the stagnant Turkish popular music of their times by fusing the electronic elements of rock music with the rich folkloric heritage of Anatolia. While even a legend like Bob Dylan was severely criticised by many of his ‘puritan’ contemporaries for a similar move, the waves that Moğallar created with this move turned things upside-down in Turkey musically. To such an extent that many young artists employ (or should we rather say imitate) the same patterns nowadays. And after a two-decade long break, many solo projects and only two original members remaining from the original line-up (Taner Öngür and Cahit Berkay), the Moğollar are still cutting albums and they are still on the road. Their latest longplayer ‘Umut Yolunu Bulur’ (2009) takes us back to the Asian leitmotif mentioned at the outset. This album features a track entitled ‘Bulutlar Adam Öldürmesin’ (Don’t let the clouds kill people). It was composed by Taner Öngür and features the lyrics of one of the most prolific Turkish poets, Nazım Hikmet. In it Hikmet conveys a pure-hearted message against the use of nuclear weapons, the horrors of which the world had experienced for the first time in Nagasaki and Hiroshima at the end of WW2. ‘A 6-year-old boy is running, his kite flying through the trees. You once ran like this, too. Do not act pitilessly towards the children, you rulers. Don’t let the clouds kill people.’
