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RUM HISTORY • ΙΣΤΟΡΙΑ ΤΩΝ ΡΩΜΙΩΝ

@rumhistory

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🌊istanbul’da bulunan Rum hıkâyeleri,
between Büyükada and Kurtuluş
🥀in the footsteps of my ancestors
. @dil4ara behind the account

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71 years ago, on September 6-7 1955, my family survived the Istanbul pogrom.

They came looking for them in Büyükada. They knocked on their door, and when the grandson of Arap İzzet Pasha, the owner of the house, opened it, he told the Turks (who were marking the houses inhabited by Rums with crosses at the time) that no Rums lived in that house. By saying those words, he saved my family, and my grandmother, who was pregnant with my mother at the time.

Since then, every year on this date, I find myself wondering how they could have continued living in Turkey for more than 20 years, even though the country did not want them. And then I understood: their country is Turkey, and they love this country.

Today, as the granddaughter of people who endured so much oppression and discrimination, I live with a feeling of love and hate towards this country. I wish they had never had to leave. I wish we could have continued to have our homes in Büyükada and Kurtuluş. But unfortunately, that is no longer the reality.

So today, I think of them : of those who were forced to flee their country for another country they knew nothing about.

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📷 :
- Photo of my grandparents in 1954, one year before the pogrom.
- Photo of my grandmother in Büyükada. Some of you might recognize the place, with the tower in the background…
- Photo of my grandmother at her graduation ceremony at Zapyon School, Beyoğlu.
- Photo of my grandfather on his bicycle — the only means of transportation in Büyükada. taken in Büyükada, Istanbul, Turkey by @rumhistory

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a month ago

30 June 1946, Büyükada, İstanbul. My grandmother (the youngest one in the photo) and her sister sent this postcard to their parents, who had stayed behind in France 💌

They are accompanied by their aunt, Rodoniki Akgüloğlu, and her husband. They were the ones who welcomed them in Istanbul, particularly in Büyükada.

Those familiar with the island will immediately recognize the place where this photo was taken 🧜🏼‍♀️ I’ll let you guess… taken in Büyükada, Istanbul, Turkey by @rumhistory

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a month ago

Baptism of Rodoniki Akgüloğlu (Akgkiouloglou), my great-great-aunt, Çankırı, 1902.

This may be one of the oldest photographs in our possession.

Rodoniki was my grandmother’s aunt. She was the one who took care of her, and the one with whom we have some of our most cherished memories of Büyükada.

The clothes are representative of the Ottoman Empire. The fez was commonly worn, as were garments that covered the entire body. We can imagine that it must have been cold. We can also see just how tanned their skin was at the time, as well as their light-colored eyes.

I’m deeply grateful that we still have this photograph, taken more than 100 years ago, and that we continue to bring it to life through our stories. taken in Çankırı by @rumhistory

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a month ago

Iordanis Baklacıoğlu, my grandfather, on the Galata Bridge, Istanbul, ~1950.

We can recognize the period from my grandfather’s clothing, and the location from the distinctive design of the Galata Bridge, which remains largely unchanged today.

A wonderful archive of old Istanbul 🤍

📸 The inscription above the photograph reads: “Iordanis Baklacıoğlu and his friends.” taken in Galata, Beyoğlu by @rumhistory

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2 months ago

Yannis Akgüloğlu, my great-grandfather (1905-1960), in Çankırı or Germir in 1921. He was probably 16 or 17 years old in this photograph and is wearing a fez, as was customary in the Ottoman Empire at the time.

At the age of 18, Yannis fled Turkey to escape forced labor. Believing he was boarding a ship bound for Greece, he instead found himself in Marseille. He later met my great-grandmother, Elise Dio Talevi, in Lyon, France. Together they had two children, one of whom was my grandmother, Lucienne.

This photograph is remarkable and is now more than 100 years old. We preserve these family archives with great care and respect. taken in Çankırı by @rumhistory

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4 months ago

A few days ago, I celebrated Easter with friends. It’s the rare religious holiday that I remember my grandmother celebrating. Every year, I try to celebrate it in my own way, and each year I buy a tsoureki, because the taste of mahleb and mastic (sakiz) is incredible and make me feel like a child again. it’s a true Proustian madeleine for me 🥧

This year, I decided to make it myself. So we used my grandmother’s recipe, from her famous recipe notebook written in Greek and Turkish, and with the help of my friends, we baked it together🦋

A deeply symbolic moment for me, that gently weaves me back to my roots, to where I come from. In those simple gestures and familiar flavors, I find a quiet sense of belonging, and it fills me wih a deep joy🤍

Happy Easter, everyone🫶🏼 by @rumhistory

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6 months ago

1955, Büyükada, İstanbul 🌹

My grandfather and my grandmother after their wedding 🤍 taken in Büyükada, Istanbul, Turkey by @rumhistory

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8 months ago

Today is September 6th, the 70th anniversary of the Istanbul pogrom.

Every year, I try to write something, to make sure we remember one of the most traumatic events endured by the Rum community, as well as by Armenians, Jews, and others.

Houses marked with crosses, shops looted, women violated, lives lost. This is what nationalism does to our communities, to our minorities.

On that day, my grandmother was pregnant with my mother. I can hardly imagine the weight of the trauma carried within us, passed down through our lineage. To be forced out of Büyükada, a place that had always been a sanctuary for Istanbul’s minorities.

Today, almost nothing remains. Only us, to tell the story.

📸 : My grandfather and grandmother

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#pogromistanbul #6eylul #rum #minorities #heritage #history #archives #family #memories #istanbul #greece #turkiye #turkey taken in Istanbul, Turkey by @rumhistory

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a year ago

Who recognizes this iconic spot in Athens?

This photo dates back to 1933, and it was taken at Lycabettus, which offers a panoramic view over the city. Just a few months ago, I was there myself.

In this photo, you can see Rhodoniki, my great-great-aunt, her mother Triandafilia, and Rhodoniki’s husband.

Rhodoniki and her husband travelled a lot, but at that time they were still living in Istanbul.

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#lycabettus #athens #istanbul #family #archives #memories #turkey #byzance #constantiniple #heritage #history taken in Lycabettus Hill, Athens, Greece by @rumhistory

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a year ago

Today I just wanted to share a picture of my grandparents, shortly before their wedding in Istanbul, probably in 1955.

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#istanbul #constantinople #turkiye #rum #heritage #history #memories #archives #büyükada #story #family #turkey #greece #greek #byzance taken in Istanbul, Turkey by @rumhistory

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a year ago

I strongly prefer the term “Rum” over “Greek” when talking about minorities in Turkey.

It’s often easier to say “Greek” when explaining Turkey’s complex history to someone unfamiliar with the region. But calling the Rum of Istanbul, Izmir, or Pontus simply “Greek” makes a distinct minority invisible.

The term Rum refers to the greek-speaking (but also Arabic,…) Orthodox Christians who have lived in what is now Turkey for centuries. The word comes from “Roman,” a legacy of the Byzantine Empire, whose capital was Constantinople. After 1453, the Ottomans officially recognized them as the Rum Millet. Not because of ties to modern Greece (which didn’t yet exist), but as heirs of the Eastern Roman tradition.

Although Rum people speak Greek and follow Orthodox Christianity, their identity has been deeply shaped by Ottoman, Anatolian, and local influences. Istanbul Rums, for example, have their own accent, food culture, and religious customs. Their experience is rooted in the places they’ve lived for generations.

Using the word Rum honors this complexity without reducing them to a modern national label. It reminds us that they were not seen as foreign Greeks, but as non-Muslim Turkish citizens with a distinct identity. That matters, especially when we talk about the discrimination and violence they endured throughout the 20th century—from the 1955 Istanbul pogrom to state policies that drove most Rum out of the country.

So yes, “Greek” might be easier. But “Rum” is more accurate, more respectful, and more truthful. It makes a marginalized community visible—and acknowledges their history, resilience, and unique place in Turkey’s past and present.

📸 : My grandmother in Büyükada, Istanbul in 1955 in the Arap Izzet Paşa appartment.

NB : I want to clarify that there is absolutely no attempt in my post to separate Rums from Greeks. The distinction I make is not about creating division, it's about precision.

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#istanbul #constantinople #memories #heritage #family #turkey #turkiye #history #archive taken in Büyükada, Istanbul, Turkey by @rumhistory

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a year ago

You can see in this photo that it was taken in front of the Rum Ruhban Mektebi, which is actually a theological school for Rum Orthodox in Heybeliada, Istanbul (I think).

In the photo, you can see my great-great-aunt, Rhodoniki Kiremitçioğlu in the black dress in the middle. I’m not exactly sure what year it was taken, but probably sometime in the 1930s or 1940s, or maybe even earlier.

Living in Büyükada meant constantly traveling between the other islands of Istanbul, that’s beautiful 🥹

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#archive #family #memories #istanbul #buyukada #heybeliada #rum #constantinople taken in Rum Ortodoks Ruhban Okulu by @rumhistory

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a year ago