An Englishwoman in Angora

In Short

This book captures the personal journey of an Englishwoman who travels to Angora during the height of the Nationalist movement. Defying British officialdom and the threat of war, the author seeks to bridge the chasm of misunderstanding between her home country and the rising Turkish Republic under Mustapha Kemal Pasha. Through vivid sketches and candid conversations with the era’s key figures, the narrative explores the social, political, and cultural shifts of a nation rebuilding itself from the ashes of empire, ultimately arguing for a reconciliation between East and West.

The Story

The narrative begins with a defiant act: the author insists on visiting Angora, the center of the Nationalist movement, despite intense pressure from British authorities to stay away. At a time when Turkey is viewed with suspicion and hostility by many in Europe, she determines to see the truth for herself, traveling with the hope of facilitating a better understanding between the two nations. She arrives in a land defined by recent conflict, witnessing firsthand the scars left by war, where ruined towns stand as silent testaments to the struggle for independence.

Her path takes her through the heart of Anatolia, where she observes the resilience of a people determined to carve out a new identity. She is not merely an observer; she actively engages with the architects of the new regime. Her account of these encounters is deeply personal, focusing on the character and vision of leaders who are attempting to steer a traditional society toward modern self-governance. She portrays Mustapha Kemal Pasha not just as a triumphant general, but as a modest, focused leader who credits the Nationalist Assembly rather than his own ego for the survival of the state.

Throughout her stay, the author moves between the official sphere—meetings with ministers, journalists, and military commanders—and the private, often hidden, world of the Turkish home. She finds herself welcomed into domestic settings, including the households of high-ranking officials. These sections of the book serve to demystify the Turkish harem, which she describes as an misunderstood institution that, in her experience, bears little resemblance to the sensationalized accounts common in the West. She emphasizes the dignity and influence of the women she meets, such as the intellectual and activist Halidé Edib Hanoum, whom she describes as the "Jeanne d’Arc of Turkey."

The narrative moves toward its conclusion as the author reflects on the fragility of the peace she has witnessed. She discusses the persistent shadow of European colonial interests and the complexities of diplomacy, often critiquing British policy for its perceived ignorance of Turkish realities. As she eventually departs for Constantinople and then home, her perspective has been fundamentally altered. She leaves behind a plea for the West to drop its prejudices and acknowledge the legitimacy of the Turkish struggle. The story ends not with a neat resolution, but with a lingering, urgent call for a lasting peace built on mutual respect and the recognition that the East and West are not necessarily destined to be adversaries.

How It Unfolds

The decision to travel The author rejects warnings from British officials who believe a visit to Angora is a dangerous waste of time. She resolves to go, driven by a conviction that her presence can help mend the fractured relationship between England and the new Turkey.

Through the ruined landscape The journey across Anatolia reveals the stark reality of post-war conditions, where survivors live in the skeletal remains of towns. Despite this hardship, she is met with hospitality and a dignity that contrasts sharply with the desolation around her.

Inside the capital Once in Angora, the author gains access to the inner circle of the Nationalist government. She documents her impressions of the administration, the press, and the military, framing them against the backdrop of an uncertain, burgeoning state.

Encounters with the leadership A significant portion of the narrative is devoted to her discussions with Mustapha Kemal Pasha and his associates. She focuses on their vision for the future, highlighting their desire for legitimacy and their frustration with foreign interference.

The domestic perspective Shifting focus to the social structure, the author recounts her experiences in private homes and weddings. She seeks to correct Western misconceptions about the lives of Turkish women, emphasizing their education and role in the national cause.

The final assessment The book concludes with a reflection on the broader geopolitical landscape, including the League of Nations. The author advocates for a policy of non-interference and urges the West to see the new Turkey as a partner rather than an enemy.

The People

The central figures in the book are driven by the search for national sovereignty and, in the author's case, the desire for reconciliation. Mustapha Kemal Pasha stands as the ultimate authority, a man the author portrays as singularly focused, fearless, and remarkably modest. He is the architect of the new state, prioritizing the collective strength of the Assembly over his own power. He wants to secure a future for his people, but faces the constant threat of foreign hostility and the burden of rebuilding a decimated country.

Halidé Edib Hanoum serves as the feminine counterpart to Kemal’s vision. A brilliant intellectual and organizer, she represents the potential of Turkish women in the new republic. She is deeply committed to education and the defense of the Fatherland, acting as a bridge between traditional values and modern progress. Her goal is to ensure that Turkey’s social evolution does not lose its cultural soul in the process of Westernization.

The author herself acts as a bridge, albeit an unconventional one. She is a self-appointed diplomat who wants to convince her own countrymen of the legitimacy of the Nationalist cause. She is constantly hindered by the "official mind" of her peers—the diplomats and military officers who remain trapped in imperial, anti-Turkish prejudices. By the end of her journey, while the men she encounters remain largely unchanged in their skepticism, the author has hardened her resolve, becoming a staunch advocate for the people who welcomed her into their homes.

In Its Own Voice

"For myself, I have three times been welcomed to Turkey with open arms on account of my nationality. On this occasion I was still welcome, but in spite of my nationality—an ugly truth that my mind almost refuses to accept."

The author reflects on the shifting political climate, noting that the historic admiration for Great Britain among Turks has been replaced by deep suspicion.

"I have talked with many of Europe’s great statesmen, but found none more modest than he. Yet who among them has snatched such triumph from odds as opposing?"

In this passage, she describes her impression of Mustapha Kemal Pasha, contrasting his humble demeanor with the immense scale of his political and military achievements.

"The harem door is still open. The little daughter, now thirteen, still calls me Tezajim (dear Aunt), and we find seats on the marble veranda to wait for the sun to set over the shores of the Marmora."

She illustrates the enduring, personal bonds she formed with Turkish families, using a quiet, domestic moment to counter the prevailing Western narrative of the harem as a place of secrecy and oppression.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument against the dangers of "official" prejudice and the blindness of colonial diplomacy. The author posits that Western nations, particularly Britain, have failed to understand the Turkish Nationalist movement because they rely on biased informants and outdated tropes. She challenges the reader to look past the rhetoric of the era—which often painted the Turks as eternal villains—to see a nation of people suffering, striving, and building a future based on the principles of independence. The book asks a fundamental question: can a nation that has been maligned and excluded find a place in the international order if the powers that hold the levers of influence refuse to see them as anything other than a relic of a dying empire?

Why Read It Today

This book remains a fascinating primary source for readers interested in the personality of Atatürk and the foundational mythology of modern Turkey. It captures the frantic, idealistic energy of the early 1920s, where the air was thick with both the trauma of the past and the hope for a new republic. For a modern reader, the book provides a clear view into the mindset of a Western contemporary who was deeply embedded in the "Other" side of a major geopolitical conflict.

However, the reader should be prepared for the author's clear, uncompromising bias. She is not a neutral observer; she is a partisan who does not attempt to hide her favoritism. Her prose is warm and personal, but it is also shaped by the social attitudes of her time. The narrative can feel somewhat repetitive in its defense of Turkish policies, and the author's occasional indulgence in the romanticism of the East may feel dated to some. Despite these limitations, the book’s value lies in its intimacy; it is a human-scale account that prioritizes individual connections—café conversations, shared meals, and long car rides—over abstract political theory. It is a portrait of a pivotal moment in history, viewed through a lens that is intensely, and sometimes stubbornly, human.