A Journey to Düzgün Baba

Düzgün Baba Ziyareti lies some 20-30km away from the centre of Tunceli. Like most roads in Tunceli, the way is bumpy, remote, and difficult; even the initial portion of the paved 'highway' (it is the region's only access road to the north and the highway that passes between Erzincan and Erzurum -- indeed, there are only three terrestrial access points into Tunceli, a testament to the area's remoteness and a determining factor in ensuring that all central governments have always had difficulty in controlling the region) is only wide enough for one vehicle in some parts. The ensuing turnoff to Düzgün Baba has a bit of the Bolivian to it with little but the minibus' Sabancı tires and the driver's skill separating the living from a premature end at the bottom of a rocky valley hundreds of feet below -- such driving skill is even more extraordinary given that most captains tend to nonchalantly negotiate hairpin turns with more interest directed towards writing text messages and lighting cigarettes than in investing due care and attention into their primary occupation of actually driving the vehicle.

Following one's tempting of the road gods, the traveller arrives at the Ziyaret of Düzgün Baba, a 14th century figure revered by many of Turkey's Alevi population. In embarrasment for a perceived transgression, Düzgün Baba took to the mountains to live in a cave -- while he continued to receive itinerant visitors in his mountain abode for some time, he eventually disappeared from sight -- meaning that his final resting place was never truly determined. Despite this, a funeral mound some kilometres from the base camp purports to be the final resting place of the holy man. Legend has it that an Ottoman army chose this site as a camp during a military excursion. However, after settling down, the ground began to pour forth with blood; from this blood a voice announced to the awestruck soldiers that this was place of Düzgün Baba. Needless to say, the Ottoman army quickly made alternate camping arrangements.

The arduous journey to the site, coupled with the area's mountainess terrain enhances the physical austerity and otherworldliness of the Ziyaret (literally "visit," the term usually refers to shrines for members of Turkey's Alevi sect. The shrines might be actual burial places, or, more likely, simply places where holy men have made a physical appearance (cf. Apparitions of the Blessed Virgin Mary)). Here, religiously inclined Alevis arrive to perform animal sacrifices and create a shared sense of community through the exchange of common food staples to one another at the Ziyaret; food, such as bread, nuts, watermelon, or fanta is widely dispensible at any nearby market ("nearby" used here in a somewhat figurative sense, given that this is Tunceli), but acquires increased importance when traded following the performance of animal sacrifice in front of the site's initial Ziyaret, a large rock adorned with sheeps' horns on top and lit candles on the bottom. Though the area is devoid of stately religious buildings that one would commonly encounter in grand mosques or cathedrals, the performance of animal sacrifice, the subsequent distribution of its meat (it is, I'm fairly sure, the first time that I have walked around with a pile of raw sheep intestines in my hand trying to find a bag to put it in --- not excepting the distributed gift would be somewhat gauche), the lighting of candles around the Ziyaret (generally accompanied with tears borne not of sorrow but of conviction in the validity of the prayer), and the ritual exchange of common commestibles serves to "Alevize" the space. In short, while Alevi identity is a matter for intense discussion (I should know, it's my never ending master's topic), with diverse views as to what is and is not Alevi, the rituals performed at the initial stage of the Düzgün Baba Ziyareti serves to mark the area as a "religiously Alevi" area (religiously being the operative word, since most Alevis would identify with the group's secularist and humanist philosophy without professing any adherence in its religious practices).

Elsewhere on the mountain, there are further sacralizations of space in honour of Düzgün Baba. Along waystations towards the holy man's cave (a good 1.5 climb up shale and over boulders best left to those in reasonable physical shape), one finds cave springs and holy rocks typically adorned with candles, personal photos, and knotted bits of cloth (indeed, one finds knotted cloth in holy places around the world) representing requests for Düzgün Baba's intercession in whatever troubles the supplicant. Again, the area's physical remoteness and the largely unadorned nature of the ziyarets (tied cloth here, candles there, sheep horns over there ---- in marked contrast to the grandness of the Friday mosque or the great cathedral) reminds the visitor of Alevism's rural roots far from central authorities -- as an Islamic branch whose disdain for orthodoxy has often rankled its more normative, puritanical, and politically powerful coreligionists, the Alevis of yesteryear (and arguably of the present day) could not afford to invest in any form of permanent, grand architecture. As a result, one is left with the rural Ziyaret, exemplified most strikingly with the site honouring Düzgün Baba.

















Pictures in descending order:
1) The initial part of the hike to the final resting place of Düzgün Baba.
2) The initial Ziyaret for Düzgün Baba. On the left, one can see the sacrificial floor. On the holy stone, one finds sheeps' horns on top and lit candles below.
3) An intermediary Ziyaret at the site of a cave spring. Supplicants can also tie a piece of cloth when asking for Düzgün Baba's intercession.
4) A further Ziyaret, usually greeted with a kiss and the touching of the forhead to the candle-blackened stone
5) The purported resting place of Düzgün Baba. Before entering the circle, one removes one's shoes, takes three stones, and circumbulates the grave, throwing a rock onto the pile at the beginning of each rotation.