Ored Recordings: May 21st, Again (Abkhazian and Circassian Music from Turkey)

May 21st. Again.

For several years now, almost every May 21st, we release a statement that speaks more clearly about memory, colonialism, defiance against repressive mechanisms, and resistance to assimilation.

For the Circassians, this day is a day of mourning, marking the end of the Russo-Caucasian War in 1864, the loss of independence, and the mass expulsion from their historical homeland.

Alongside the Adyghe, the Abkhazians also mourn on this day, having faced similar displacement. The Ubykhs, who lived in what is now Krasnodar Krai, are believed to have disappeared entirely, save for their descendants, who scarcely remember their language and cultural heritage. Most of them now identify as Circassians.

Open sources provide general information on these events, and the descriptions of past May releases cover our stance on the Circassian genocide.

The situation regarding how federal authorities in Russia and regional authorities in Kabardino-Balkaria, Karachay-Cherkessia, Adygea, and Krasnodar Krai address the history of the Circassians and the Caucasus, as well as their reactions to contemporary issues, remains unchanged. It is consistently disheartening, and one could reread our texts from previous years to find that everything stays on the same trajectory. We’ve even expressed this very thought a few years ago.

However, there is a positive stability — Circassian society continues to calmly and confidently speak about their problems and historical traumas while striving to build their future. Those engaged in linguistic activism, genetic and archaeological research, history, music, or contemporary Circassian art in recent years are unlikely to seriously hope for systemic changes, official acknowledgment of past mistakes, or a shift in the offensive or bland rhetoric of officials, such as “we brought you culture.” Yet, the realization that self-education and self-driven work are essential has dawned on many, if not all.

Xexes — The Diaspora
One visible result of the Russo-Caucasian War was the creation of a massive Circassian diaspora in Syria, Jordan, the United States, Europe, and especially Türkiye. Today, there are more Adyghe in these countries than in the Caucasus (various sources estimate between 3 and 5-6 million). These are the descendants of the muhajirs, forced migrants of the 19th century.

They have their own context, their own struggles, and even their own intonations in music and culture. In Türkiye, all North Caucasians — Balkars, Karachays, Ossetians, Dagestanis, Chechens, Ingush, Abazins, and Abkhazians — are collectively referred to as Circassians.

For a long time, the Turkish government prohibited muhajirs and their descendants from speaking their native languages, using native names and surnames, or naming villages in their native languages. Consequently, Caucasians in Türkiye carry two surnames: an official Turkish one and their “real” native one.

There was no systematic direct communication between the diaspora and the homeland for a long time. Since the early 20th century, muhajirs have returned home with exciting projects (e.g., Adyghe educator Nuri Tsagov/Tsağe Nuri). Or the North Caucasian political figures or abrek warriors who became heroes at home left for Türkiye and Europe (e.g., Kabardian abrek Murat Ozov/Wazi Murat or the founders of the Mountain Republic), but these were exceptions rather than the rule.

In the context of fragmentation and separation from each other, the Adyghe and Abkhazians have preserved and developed their music differently depending on the region. In the diaspora, songs and melodies that are no longer remembered in the Caucasus have been preserved, but those still remembered at home have been lost.

For example, neither Türkiye, Syria, nor Jordan have preserved the violins (shichepshins), but the accordion has developed unique features. Each diaspora has created its own style, which did not exist in the homeland. In this sense, diaspora life has gifted diversity to our people. However, the Circassians and Abkhazians in the diaspora retain a romantic and even sacred perception of the homeland (Hequ for the Circassians) as a pure, untouched, and genuine place.

This presents a danger — any information from the Caucasus is perceived as an unquestionable truth, and any style coming from Hequ is considered the most authentic. Consequently, young musicians sometimes ignore their local characteristics and strive to sound like Kabardian pop music. As a label, this disheartens us.

Nevertheless, the desire for unity and strong ties between the diasporas and the Caucasus is generally positive. Perhaps we should view fragmentation not as a problem but as a feature that makes us more global and mobile.

Düzce and Sakarya
This album includes recordings from a major expedition across Türkiye in 2017. Some of these materials have been released in previous years. This release features songs and tunes we collected in two neighboring provinces: Sakarya and Düzce.

In Sakarya, we visited the Abkhazian family ensemble Azar, which folklorist Madina Pashtova and our friend Erhan Turkav recommended to us before the expedition. Erhan, a Circassian from Türkiye, knew almost all the elderly and young musicians in Sakarya and Düzce.

The rare recordings we found on Facebook from compilations promised a meeting with an old style, free from academic or pop influences. Expeditions in Abkhazia showed that such music is almost gone there. The Soviet influence was very strong — choirs in Sukhumi, Pitsunda, and even villages often sounded like ensembles from radio committees or cultural centers. This, of course, is also interesting, but we wanted to find performers who had either not been influenced by this or had somehow overcome it.

Thus, we were looking forward to our trip to the villages of Sakarya, perhaps even more so than other meetings in Türkiye. It seemed our informants were just as eager to meet us. From the doorstep, we were greeted by elderly Abkhazians keen to show us their hospitality — the table was full of homemade food, and people were ready for well-wishes and toasts (though we only drank tea there).

During the long feast, we learned that the ensemble had faced difficult times — one of the main vocalists and experts in traditional Abkhazian songs, Nezhmettin Anashba, had recently passed away, making it harder for the group to maintain the style of Abkhazian polyphony. It was also sad that there seemed to be no replacements among the younger generation. Azar was regarded as the last bastion of Abkhazian table singing. As is often the case, people were more focused on preserving the image of the last and most valuable bearers of tradition than on acquiring their knowledge and skills.

Fortunately, Tolat Sadzba was still alive — an elder who still remembered the song lyrics and was willing to sing them. That day, after several dishes and traditional blessings, we managed to record only two songs. A heroic ballad from the Russo-Caucasian War about Ajgerei-ipa Kuchuk (about whom there are both Circassian and Ossetian songs) and a song-melody for choral dances — “Aurasha.”

Perhaps we could have recorded more, but the informants were more interested in talking and asking about the homeland (both Abkhazia and the Circassian republics) than in singing songs. The first expedition is often introductory, where we establish contact, and the main part of the material is recorded during the second visit when people are no longer trying to impress us with their hospitality. We left Sakarya firmly believing we would return later and record the rest. But just a few months after our recording, Tolat Sadzba passed away. Thus, these two incredible songs became our only recording of the legendary Azar.

Recording in Düzce
Erhan also organized the recording in Düzce. There, elders (mostly Shapsugs and a few Abkhazians) formed a home ensemble with the ironic name “70-Year-Old Youth” (70’lik Delikanlılar). This joke not only accurately described the participants’ age and enthusiasm but also the music played by the unofficial group — wedding music for games — dzhegu.

The lively elders passed the accordion, played the melodies from hand to hand, sang dance refrains in chorus, and used large wooden benches as percussion instruments, hitting them with wooden sticks (called pkhachag here).

The musicians energized each other, getting into a groove and creating a festive atmosphere for themselves. However, this was not a real wedding but a recording session, so the “70-Year-Old Youth” quickly grew tired and switched to having tea with guests from Nalchik. We managed to record a few very bright but too short tunes. If it had been a real wedding, the release would have consisted of many hours of melodies. Even so, the release conveys an atmosphere of joy and musical festivity.

Hope Instead of Despair
We cannot find reasons for joy or even for optimistic forecasts regarding the attitude of official institutions towards Circassian and Abkhazian history. The situation is either stagnating or worsening, with less space for free discussion of colonialism. Circassians march in mourning despite unjustified bans, and Abkhazians fight against the distribution of their lands and the pressure on civil activists. Instead of developing and striving for the future, our people are forced to defend basic things.

Nevertheless, it is fundamentally important for us to release something every May 21st that speaks not only of mourning but more about hope. Yes, Tolat Sadzba is no longer with us, but his voice and the voices of his friends are preserved in digital formats. These people sang songs and found reasons for joy in the harshest conditions. What they preserved, new generations can take and infuse this music with new meanings and moods.

The joy lies in the fact that there are people for whom these recordings are made. There are those for whom these songs can be sung.

Дызэкъуэтымэ – дылэщщ.

Sound: Timur Kodzoko
Sound editing: Timur Kodzoko
Cover image: Timur Kodzoko
Cover art: Milana Khalilova
Notes: Bulat Khalilov, Sergey Zotov and Bella Mirzoeva
Special thanks to Erhan Turkaw for organization and Fatih Ersem for contacts. Also we want to thank Aslanbek Nacho for his financial support.

Recorded in Sakarya and Düzce, Turkey, November 2017

Source: Ored Recordings (Bandcamp). I would strongly encourage all my readers to buy and download this digital album (paying as much as you wish) and thus support the unique, vital mission of Ored Recordings. |||TRR