Representations of the population exchange: the story of Hasan Ainakis

Hasan’s family lived in a small village in the area of Chania at the beginning of the 20^th century. They were descended from Asia Minor Turks who had settled in Crete fifteen generations back. Christians and Muslims co-existed peacefully in the village and life was quiet until the mid-19^th century when Christian uprisings became more common. In 1897, when the decision was taken that Crete would become independent from the Ottoman Empire, the family decided to move somewhere safer. The night before their departure, the family’s oldest son was killed. The family buried him in the village and left the next day.

They went to Kandanos, a nearby village where other Muslims had also found refuge. The village soon came under siege from Christian insurgents. One day, during prayers, three bombs hit the village mosque. Hasan’sfather was among the casualties. He was buried in Kandanos and on that same day, soldiers sent by the Great Powers evacuated the Muslims from the village and transported them to Chania where they would be safer.

Hasan, along with his mother and sister, tried to rebuild his life in the city from scratch. He became a travelling vendor. Later, he worked in the print shop of a man from Constantinople who had moved to Chania. Hasan felt his proximity to this man would protect him against Christian attacks.

Hasan was in Chania when the Greek army landed in Smyrna. Upon hearing the news, the Christians rushed to the streets, while the Muslims locked themselves in their houses for fear of rioting. Tensions were high in the city over the next period and the Muslims felt ever more threatened. Hasan’s mother died during this time. The sad event brought to the surface feelings of tenderness between Hasan and a Christian co-worker, Marigo, feelings that had stayed latent for years.

Their love affair began when the population exchange agreement was decided. Because of their relationship, they both received threats and the couple avoided leaving the house. Their future was bleak. In February 1924, Hasan boarded an Italian ship to Alexandreia. He wore a cap instead of a fez for fear of being attacked during the journey. Later, from Alexandreia he would make his way to Aivali  (Ayvalik), a place where he could have ‘a good life’, according to the first Christian exchangeable refugees who were living in Chania. As a Christian, Marigo stayed back in Chania and they never saw each other again.

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The effects of the mandatory population exchange reverberated through Greek society long after the end of the actual exchange process. Its presence is still strong, since ‘the past is not something that has come to a definitive end and it can have more than one lives, insofar as it is called to respond to the needs of the present’ (Exertzoglou, 2011).

Consequently, a wide array of processes can stoke the memory of this event, with artistic creation one of the most prominent among them. Relying on testimonies, research and the creator’s imagination, Soloup tells the story of a Chania Muslim, Hasan, through the panels dedicated to the story of ‘Hasanakis’ in his graphic novel Aivali.

In this effort, Soloup was assisted by Ahmet Yorulmaz, a second generation Cretan Muslim who was born in Aivali in 1932. His parents had been born in Chania and arrived in Aivali in 1924 as exchangeable Muslims. Yorulmaz himself wrote novels inspired by this event. As he spoke both Greek and Turkish, he translated works by Greek writers in Turkish and a large part of his work overall can be traced back to his connection with his parents’ Cretan origins. He died in 2014, a few months before Soloup’s book was published.