Erdoğan Eats First

The president, a pastry, and a one-minute video

We have behind us, beloved reader, bayram, or Eid, if you prefer the Arabic version. I spent the holiday with my in-laws in Istanbul, and am now in the city of Mardin, about which I’ll write more later.

For now, I’d like to reflect on a single video clip that was shared over the holiday.

It’s a clip of the Erdoğans, who went to their ancestral city of Rize over the holiday. It’s a clip of the president eating a pastry, but really it’s a clip about who gets to eat first. It’s a clip about hierarchy.

It became a little viral over the holiday weekend, because it’s one of those moments that’s very typical of Erdoğan. It’s highly culturally specific, so translating it is a bit difficult. You can’t just watch the video and have me translate his words. It doesn’t really make sense that way, or at least you won’t understand why it went viral.

I’m going to take some more time with it and see if I can explain the whole thing.

So here’s the video. It’s one minute long.

Now let’s go through it.

So I think this is part of the president’s Rize trip where he’s supposed to make a press statement. He’s waiting in front of a bunch of microphones, and there are high-level people in dark coats lined up next to him. Erdoğan sees someone off camera and makes a hand gesture suggesting that they’re allowed to pass.

Two guys carrying trays of simit, a round pastry, walk past the cameras.

It’s the first day after Ramadan. After the month of fasting, it’s always a little exciting to be able to eat again in broad daylight. That’s probably what the simit offering is about. It’s a little reminder that the fast is over.

Erdoğan’s eyes are moving with the simit guys, but they aren’t offering him any. They’re starting to offer to people lined up off camera to the left.

“Simitten buraya da vermiyor musun?” [Aren’t you giving simit over here as well?] Erdoğan says. He uses the informal singular (“thou”), as he does with nearly anyone except other leaders of state.

This is weird, because of course they’re going to offer him simit. He is the central person in any national gathering of people, and has been for decades. The simit offering is by him and for him. It’s just that there is a momentary delay of some kind.

Note how quickly Erdoğan jumps into the situation here. There are a few seconds in which there is just a slight feeling that these two simit guys might have forgotten that he’s at the top of the food chain, and he immediately reminds them, albeit with an ironic, and slightly passive-aggressive comment.

This is deep in his wiring. Erdoğan is always watching. The social structure around him must always recognize his authority, literally every moment. If there is a lapse in respect, even for a split second, Erdoğan will take some kind of corrective action.

And of course, just as the president has asked his question, his son Bilal pops into the frame, offering his father a small piece of simit.

“Size de şöyle, Ali’nin, kalan simidi.” [for you, Ali’s remaining simit]

As he says the last word, he breaks down into light hearted laughter. It’s the kind of laughter you don’t see around Erdoğan. Nobody else could let themselves go that much around him. It’s a stark contrast to the dour-faced men standing around the president.

I don’t know who Ali is here, but my best guess is that it’s Ali Tahir Erdoğan, Bilal’s second son, and the president’s grandson. If I’m right, Bilal is joking that the president isn’t getting to eat of his own offering, and that he may have to make do with the remains of his grandson’s simit.

While still laughing, Bilal looks to his left, and comes face-to-face with newly-appointed Minister of the Interior Mustafa Çiftçi. This is the man in charge of Turkey’s police, the gendarmerie, the local administrators of all 81 districts, border security, and disaster management. Çiftçi reciprocates Bilal Erdoğan’s smile.

Meanwhile, president Erdoğan is not smiling. He has also ignored his son’s meager offering. He wants one from the trays. One of the simit guys has diverted his path to come up beside him, and Erdoğan now takes a simit.

Bilal is eating the rejected piece as he moves out of view, still laughing.

Erdoğan splits his simit against the microphones, and we hear the crackling of the fresh pastry. Unlike the softer, doughier Istanbul simit, the Rize version is hard, thin and very crunchy. It’s dipped in molasses, so its surface has a glazy look, not unlike New York bagels.

“Ali aldı mı?” [has Ali taken one?] Erdoğan asks to his right. He’s assured that Ali has indeed had one, but Erdoğan passes down half of his simit anyways.

Bilal appears again, smiling, and takes half of the presidential simit off camera.

Erdoğan now bites off a piece, and the microphones again pick up the crunch.

While holding the simit between his thumb and index finger, he stretches out his middle finger to point at the trays of simit off camera, while also raising his eyebrows and slightly nodding towards the trays.

“Buuu, bizim simit” [This is our simit] he says.

Someone off camera says “Rize gevreği.” [Rize crisps]

Erdoğan goes “Rize!” with an extended index finger.

Now this is kind of funny if you know what’s happening. Throughout Turkey, the round pastries often eaten with tea are known as “simit.”

As far as I know, there are two exceptions. The first is Izmir, where I’m from. We call ours “gevrek” (literally, “crisp”). People in Izmir can be pretty particular about this, and will sometimes correct people from out of town when they talk of buying a “simit” there.

The other city that does this is Rize. They call the pastry “Rize gevreği,” so “Rize crisps.” These are indeed different from simit elsewhere in Turkey. They’re smaller, harder, have fewer sesame seeds, and are crunchier.

So Erdoğan is making a show of taking ownership of this pastry, but he doesn’t even know its real name. It’s clear that despite having roots in Rize, he hasn’t spent much time there. As everyone knows, he was born in Istanbul, grew up there, and built his political career on that foundation.

But to return to the video, Erdoğan is now munching on his pastry.

A woman off camera says “daha önce görmedim efendim dışarıda.” [I never saw it, came across it elsewhere.]

Erdoğan doesn’t hear her first, makes her repeat it. Then he raises his eyebrows as if saying “no”

“Bu sadece Rize’de olur” [This only exists in Rize] he says, with a full mouth.

People are speaking about a photo op.

“Yanıma gelin” [come next to me] says Erdoğan.

The camera zooms out. A woman munching on a Rize crisp moves next to Erdoğan, as do a couple other people.

And that’s where the scene ends.

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Some people have shared the clip approvingly.

To them, Erdoğan looks relatable. He’s eating a simit, the food of the poor. He’s being irrationally possessive of a little piece of his hometown. He’s moving and talking like a tough guy. It’s an unscripted moment that reminds us that despite being unimaginably wealthy and powerful, Erdoğan is still just some guy off the street. Everyone’s got an uncle or neighbor like that.

Most importantly, it’s also a reminder that Erdoğan will take care of everyone. It’s his simit. His offering to everyone else. He’s literally breaking bread and passing it around for people to eat. Yes, he eats first, but so will you, if you’ve paid your dues.

For a lot of other people, the clip is awful for the same reasons. Erdoğan is just some guy off the street, but he also decides who eats and who starves in this country.

Erdoğan is extremely direct, bordering on rude. He’s not thanking the guy who brings him the simit. He’s not offering any to anyone but his grandson — his direct descendant, who by the way, has already had some. Meanwhile, his son Bilal pops in and out of the video, laughing like a child, while everyone else is focused, smiling only when permitted.

How did this become the top of the food chain?