Interview by Sawsan al-Abtah (Beirut)
For the first time, Turks are reading al-Mutanabbi in their own language, thanks to the writer and translator Dr. Mehmet Hakkı Suçin, now regarded as one of the foremost translators of classical and modern Arabic literature into Turkish. A professor at Gazi University in Ankara, Suçin headed its department of Arabic literature for years before devoting himself fully to his translations and writing. Through his remarkable work he has managed to revive interest in Arabic literature in his country, translating many authors, above all Yahya Haqqi, Ghassan Kanafani and Mahmoud Darwish, and from the classical heritage the Mu‘allaqat, Abu Nuwas and, most recently, al-Mutanabbi. He chaired the committee that prepared the Arabic language curricula in Turkey and followed the process closely. Here is our interview with him.
A few days ago your selection from al-Mutanabbi’s divan was published under the title İnsanın Şarkısı [The Song of Man], and Turks are reading al-Mutanabbi in their own language for the first time. How did this project begin?
At university in Ankara we used to study al-Mutanabbi through his life and certain stereotypes, such as his claim to prophethood and his wandering from court to court in search of money, without really entering his poetry. Perhaps the situation is not very different in Arab universities. After I translated the Mu‘allaqat, some well-known Turkish poets kept asking me to continue translating classical Arabic poetry. So I began translating classical Arab poets, among them al-Mutanabbi, al-Ma‘arri and Abu Nuwas, and publishing them in the long-established Turkish magazine Varlık. I had already translated a considerable number of al-Mutanabbi’s poems, but meeting Dr. Ali bin Tamim, Chairman of the Abu Dhabi Arabic Language Centre, gave the project a strong push: he took a keen interest in completing the translation and encouraged me warmly. As one of the experts on, and lovers of, al-Mutanabbi’s poetry, Dr. Ali also wrote a wonderful preface to the Turkish translation. Without him the project might have been delayed for years.
Is al-Mutanabbi a known name in Turkey?
Most of the “Divan” poets, the name given to the poets of Ottoman poetry, knew al-Mutanabbi, because at that time the Turkish poetic elite knew three languages well, Turkish, Persian and Arabic, and some of them left divans in all three. Moreover, Ottoman Turkish was a blend of these three languages, so there was no need to translate Arabic poetry. Al-Mutanabbi influenced Ottoman poets such as Nef‘i and Baki. My German colleague Stefan Weidner and I were invited to the King Abdulaziz Center for World Culture (Ithra) to talk about al-Mutanabbi’s influence on poetry outside the Arab world. While I was reading examples of my Arabic translations of Nef‘i’s poems, I heard some members of the audience whisper, “Yes, this is al-Mutanabbi’s voice.”
What have the first reactions been?
The translation came out about a week ago; we need time to gauge how much interest there will be in the “Turkish al-Mutanabbi,” but the first reactions are very good. I have received congratulatory calls from some Turkish writers, and invitations from Turkish universities, reading groups and literary associations to talk about al-Mutanabbi and the translation, and to sign it on al-Mutanabbi’s behalf. We are arranging these meetings, and I expect that in the coming days we will be reading articles about al-Mutanabbi in Turkish literary magazines.
Abu al-Tayyib’s syntax is difficult. Wanting this translation to be poetic, what difficulties did you face in your work?
In my translations of Arabic poetry I have two concerns: not to sacrifice content for the sake of rhythm, and to recreate the poetic rhythm. When translating classical Arabic poetry, I recreate the poetic text in Turkish through internal rhythm and flowing rhymes, without falling into an artificiality that would destroy the structure of the poem. My way is to create a modern language in Turkish with a classical flavour; this is what we expect from translations of Shakespeare, Dante and the other great poets. I wanted to present to readers not merely an Arab poet but a great world poet; if al-Mutanabbi is received this way in Turkey, I will consider myself successful.
Who reads the Arabic literature you translate? Is it a broad readership?
Personally, I have gained a considerable readership; they follow me and read almost everything I publish. Many reading groups have chosen numerous works from these translations and discussed them all over Turkey, especially in the big cities. Critics and men and women of letters have written about the translated works in magazines, which has helped them circulate further. Some works have been honoured with literary awards that Arabic literature had never received before. At this stage we have succeeded in drawing the attention of both readers and publishers to Arabic literature.
You have translated many Palestinian writers. Has demand for them increased because of the recent war on Gaza?
I did not translate Palestinian literature because it is Palestinian, but because it is good literature by world standards. Mahmoud Darwish had been translated into Turkish, but apart from Lütfullah Göktaş’s translation, these were very poor translations. According to the testimony of Arab poets who knew him, such as Ahmed al-Shahawi, Mahmoud Darwish was saddened by these deadly translations. I retranslated everything that was bad, then translated new works. I also retranslated Men in the Sun directly from Arabic, because it had been translated from English and the author’s name had been printed on the cover as “Hasan Kanafani.” And I translated Adania Shibli and Najwan Darwish into Turkish for the first time. I have no statistics on increased demand for Palestinian literature, but the Turkish people are known for their sympathy for Palestine and its just cause.
Careless translations
What channels of cooperation in translation exist between Turkey and the Arab world? Or is it left to publishers’ preferences?
Since 2005 the Turkish Ministry of Culture has been running the TEDA project, which aims to open Turkish literature to the world. Translations into Arabic have been supported within this framework. By 2021 the project had supported a total of 2,590 works from Turkish into world languages, led by Bulgarian and Albanian, followed by Arabic, Persian, Greek and Russian. Turkish literature has been widely translated into the regions neighbouring Turkey, but if we look closely at the choices and the quality of translation, we see in most Arabic translations careless expression and word-for-word rendering, as well as spelling and grammatical errors, because they did not go through editing and revision. Most are not of a good standard. I have a project of writing in-depth articles in Arabic on Turkish literature (poetry, short story, novel, drama and other genres) to guide those who wish to translate it into Arabic. I published an article in Al-Majalla entitled “Trends in Turkish Poetry from the Divan to the Internet Age,” and I am continuing to write similar articles.
You have translated poets of Turkish Sufi literature, such as Yunus Emre and Ahmed Yesevi, into Arabic. Since you know your country’s literature, why do you not enter the field of translation from Turkish into Arabic?
My translation direction is mostly from Arabic into Turkish, but I have translated more than seventy poets to create an anthology covering all the colours of contemporary Turkish poetry. The anthology is almost ready and is waiting for an Arab publisher willing to publish it. Selecting the poems requires extra effort from the translator, but I am lucky, because my wife is a Turkish poet and a critic of Turkish literature, and we can choose the best ones together.
Haqqi and the beginnings
Was there a special experience that bound you to Adonis as you translated him?
Adonis has a special place in my formation. I came to know his writing early, while I was a student at Ankara University, through the magazine Fikr wa Fann, which reached our university library. I have early attempts at reading and understanding him, but fate brought us together through the poet Ahmed al-Shahawi. Then we talked a lot on the phone, and later met in Istanbul, Ankara and Izmir; our relationship is still very warm, and when I talk to him I feel I am talking to a friend. I have learned many things from him and from his works that invite me to think and reflect. So far I have translated four books by Adonis; his latest poetry book, Adoniada, will be published in Turkish in the coming months. If I run into a problem after finishing a translation, I put my questions to him, and he answers tirelessly and patiently.
A question about the beginnings: what drew you to Yahya Haqqi, whose short fiction you chose as the subject of your master’s thesis?
Yahya Haqqi is a turning point for the Arabic short story, through the “New School” and the transition from romanticism to realism; with him, too, the theme of the East–West encounter acquired a more mature dimension in Arabic fiction. Perhaps the similarity between our names also played a role in this choice. After reading his works I learned that he was of Turkish origin and had spent several years in Ankara as a diplomat at the Egyptian Embassy, where he met Atatürk and some of the literary elite, above all Abdülhak Hâmid, whom the author of The Lamp of Umm Hashim describes wonderfully in his book Unshudat al-Basata [Hymn to Simplicity]. In another context he also says he would write about Atatürk, but as far as I know he did not.
You wrote your undergraduate thesis on Gibran’s Spirits Rebellious. Is Gibran widely read in Turkey?
Some of Gibran’s English works were translated into Turkish in the 1940s, so he is known. But the works he wrote in Arabic were translated relatively late. I would not be exaggerating if I said I acquired the practice of translation through Gibran’s texts. Spirits Rebellious, A Tear and a Smile and The Tempests were my first translations, made while I was an undergraduate, but I did not publish them. Gibran was my first teacher in the training of translation.
Teaching Arabic
You chaired the committee that prepared the Arabic language curricula for Turkish schools. Can you tell us which grades they are for? In which schools is Arabic taught?
I remember that you interviewed me on this subject for Asharq Al-Awsat in April 2012, that is, twelve years ago. Now you are talking about the same subject again. Arabic is taught at all levels, and schools fall into two groups: regular schools and İmam Hatip schools. In regular schools Arabic is taught as an optional course of two hours a week, while in İmam Hatip schools, attended by 515,000 students, Arabic is compulsory and ranges from two to four hours a week depending on grade and track. Turkish universities teach Arabic at three levels: departments of Arabic language and literature, departments of Arabic language teaching, and departments of translation and interpreting.
What has changed in the twelve years since the curricula were prepared?
Many things, but not to the degree I had hoped. Education policies change as ministers change, which creates a kind of instability in implementing what has been prepared, without following up on the results. The curriculum we prepared was the first to be based on the Common European Framework of Reference for Languages, but unfortunately no textbooks suited to it were prepared; then the curricula were changed perhaps four times, and their success was not monitored by scientific methods. The problem in Turkey is that the decision-makers who set teaching plans generally view Arabic as a language of religion and a tool for understanding the Islamic sciences. In my view this approach is an obstacle to teaching Arabic as a language of civilization and literature, the language of a people who speak it. Priority should first be given to teaching it for general purposes, and then move on to specific purposes: religious, touristic, medical, commercial and so on.
What difficulties did you face? Above all, non-Arabs complain of the lack of methods for teaching Arabic to non-native speakers. You yourself have several books on teaching Arabic.
We lack two things: teacher training, and professional textbook series that integrate the four skills through modern communicative methods. Arab institutions such as the King Salman Global Academy for the Arabic Language, the Abu Dhabi Arabic Language Centre and civil education centres in many countries, including Turkey, have initiatives for training Arabic teachers, but these need to be systematic and continuous. As for textbook series, they require an institutional effort that takes into account issues such as teaching through communicative methods, teaching Arab culture, considering the inclusion of colloquial Arabic in the curricula, and speaking skills, so that the learner can at least communicate with the Arab street. We have long distances to cover, but I am optimistic, because the material and human resources exist in the Arab world and beyond.
Originally published as: Sawsan al-Abtah, “Mehmet Hakkı Suçin: I Wanted to Present al-Mutanabbi as a Great World Poet,” Asharq Al-Awsat, 2 April 2024. Translated from the Arabic for this site.