The Gatsby of Fatih

I am sitting on the third floor of a recently renovated mansion in Istanbul’s Fatih district, the sun casting its rays into what is now a reading room in which a few young students pore over their computers. They are surrounded by an impressive selection of books covering Ottoman and modern Republican history and literature. The windows overlook an expansive view of the Sea of Marmara.

The red-brick mansion is named Bulgur Palace and was opened in February 2024 as a cultural landmark after its acquisition and renovation by Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality. It follows a line of similarly impressive cultural or former industrial sites that the municipality’s heritage division has renovated and opened for public use. Bulgur Palace’s grounds consist of Istanbul Kitapçısı – the municipality’s flagship bookstore, exhibition and meeting rooms, a library and cafe. It’s free to enter, there is open-access wi-fi and the books are free to peruse. One floor features a photography exhibition devoted to the world-renowned Magnum Photos agency, featuring iconic photographs from places and histories far and away – a man voting in the French elections of 1936, Algiers during the revolution. Thanks to this renovation many have been made aware of the building’s existence, and the building itself has been saved from irreversible decay. Is the same true for its history?

The entrance foyer features a display that refers to the building as one of the “most important examples of twentieth-century Istanbul civil architecture”. It was built for Mehmet Habib Bey from Bolu, “who became rich through the grain trade”. Thought to be designed by the Levantine architect Giulio Mongeri, the building is “a successful example of the First National Architecture Movement”, the display states. In 1926 ownership was transferred to the Ottoman Bank after Habib Bey became embroiled in debt. The building served as the Bank’s archive for many years, as well as a residence for its employees. A private bank acquired it in 2001, from whom the Istanbul Municipality purchased it in 2021, after which renovations began.

The history of Bulgur Palas proves far richer than the municipality’s introduction and programming suggest. The building offers fascinating insights into the politics of the late Ottoman period, the political economy of the Great War, migration, and the history of minorities in Turkey.

Unpacking these short snippets of its story, the history of Bulgur Palas proves far richer than the municipality’s introduction and its cultural/historical programming might suggest. The building offers fascinating insights into the politics of the late Ottoman period, the political economy of WWI, migration, and the history of minorities in Turkey. Habib Bey was a fascinating character in himself. Originally from Bolu and educated in the Military Academy, he was appointed to serve in Monastir, where he became head of the local branch of the Committee of Union and Progress. He was later sent back to his hometown to organize the CUP’s activities there. After the CUP was swept into power in 1908, he was elected member of parliament.

The late historian Yavuz Selim Karakışla, who held his unpublished diaries, described Habib Bey’s writings as portraying a “patriotic Ottoman soldier, a dedicated Unionist and a very devout Muslim”.[1] In 1912, following a coup against the CUP, he was put in jail, where he made friends with Topal İsmail Hakkı Paşa – an important aide to Enver Paşa, who presided over efforts to nationalize the Turkish economy. After the Ottomans entered the war in 1914, Habib Bey’s connection with İsmail Hakkı gave him rights to one of the German-manufactured rail carriages that transported goods around war-torn Anatolia. Several CUP insiders benefited from this lucrative privilege, monopolizing the distribution of goods and amassing huge wealth in the process. This group came to be known pejoratively as muhtekirs or vagon vurguncuları, those who took advantage of wartime conditions to amass fortunes for themselves. Habib Bey, who traded bulgur, came to be known as Bulgur Kralı Habib Bey – the Bulgur King.

Karakışla suggests that Habib Bey was mesmerized by power and lost his moral compass as a result. He would go on to flaunt his newfound wealth, first in a seaside residence in İstanbul’s Baltalimanı neighbourhood, whose multiple floors were decorated with life-size statues and magnificent vases depicting Napoleon’s European adventures.[2] Wanting something even more glamorous, Habib Bey ordered the construction of Bulgur Palas on one of the seven hills of Istanbul. How Habib Bey and Mongeri, his architect got together is an interesting question, if indeed Mongeri was the architect. Habib Bey preferred not to join the War of Independence and lost his privileges and money after unsuccessful ventures in arms trading. The building was turned over to the Ottoman Bank by the family to pay off their debts after Habib Bey’s death in 1926. Habib Bey never got to live in Bulgur Palas.

Habib Bey preferred not to join the War of Independence and lost his privileges and money after unsuccessful ventures in arms trading. The building was turned over to Ottoman Bank to pay off debts. Habib Bey never got to live in Bulgur Palas.

.

Some who did, albeit in the mansion’s annexes, rather than the mansion itself, were employees of Ottoman Bank. Emine Erdem, whose family lived there in the 1950s, published a memoir describing life in Bulgur Palas entitled Bir Yerde Bir Gül Ağlar (Belge Yayınları, 2001). Originally published in German, the book was translated into a bilingual Greek and Turkish edition in 2001. What she describes is a microcosm of Istanbul’s urban social history in the mid twentieth century, defined by migration flows and the politics of minority communities. Erdem writes about three families that lived in the courtyard. One was the family of Madame Eleni, an Istanbulite Greek, and her Italian husband Monsieur Pepo. Halise Hanım’s family were Turkish migrants from Bulgaria. The author’s own family had left their Kurdish hometown to live in Istanbul. The men were employees of Ottoman Bank.

On the night of 6-7 September 1955, an angry mob forced the mansion’s garden doors, decrying the inhabitants as enemies of the Turks. According to Erdem, it was her father who deterred the crowd by shouting “I just called the police. This is the Ottoman Bank and we are Muslims, what do you want?”, thus saving his non-Muslim neighbours from a tragic fate. Soon after, all the families left the property and Bulgur Palas slowly sunk into oblivion and decay.

When I visited the site, I asked staff in the library whether they had a copy of Emine Erdem’s book available. They did not, unfortunately. I was however informed by the attendant that showed her around that Erdem had come to visit the building after its renovation. Following her visit, the attendant told the relevant municipality directorate about Erdem’s book on Bulgur Palas and urged them to purchase it for the library. But no one acted. It is admirable that the municipality has put significant resources into the purchase and renovation of Bulgur Palas and opened it up for public use in the one-size-fits-all model it has adopted for its various heritage sites. One wonders though, how it might serve a historical purpose, reflecting its rich architectural, social and economic history.