As a human being born in Lebanon, a country that has lived through war, destruction, political violence, and unresolved historical trauma, I cannot look at history as something distant or abstract. For me, history is something alive that continues to shape people’s lives, fears, identities, and conflicts today.

Writing this opera is not an easy task for me, neither emotionally nor historically. Precisely because of that, I believe it is important. We cannot simply erase difficult or controversial figures from history because they make us uncomfortable today. We must try to confront history honestly, even when it is painful.

This opera is not an attempt to provide definitive answers or moral judgments. Rather, it is an attempt to ask questions, to present different perspectives, and to create a space in which complexity and contradiction can exist without simplification.

The world today constantly reminds us that unresolved history returns in different forms. When I watch wars, nationalism, violence, displacement, and political polarization unfolding around us, I feel the necessity to look back and try to understand how societies arrive at such moments. Ignoring history does not heal wounds, and silence does not remove trauma. Looking back may be uncomfortable, but it is necessary.

It is impossible to approach a figure such as Atatürk without entering political territory. At the same time, the goal of this work is not political propaganda, nor is it intended to create heroes or enemies. What interests me are human contradictions, historical complexity, and the tension between ideals, modernization, power, and violence.

Opera allows emotions, memories, fears, and contradictions to coexist simultaneously. That is why I believe it is an appropriate artistic form for this subject.

The aim of this work is not to offend anyone or to attack any community, identity, or collective memory. I understand that these subjects are deeply emotional and personal for many people, and I also understand that historical memory is experienced differently by different communities and individuals. The purpose of the opera is to create a space for reflection and dialogue, not to close discussion or impose a single interpretation.

I believe that controversial historical figures often reveal the deepest contradictions within societies and within history itself. It is relatively easy to speak about history when everything appears clear and comfortable. It is far more difficult, and perhaps more necessary, to engage with figures and histories that continue to divide people emotionally, politically, and culturally.

My own background inevitably influences the work. Coming from Lebanon means living daily with the consequences of unresolved history, ongoing violence, and political instability. For us, war is not simply something belonging to the past; it continues to shape everyday life in very concrete ways. It remains present in memory, politics, architecture, language, fear, uncertainty, and human relationships. This personal experience inevitably shapes the way I approach history, violence, nationalism, and collective memory in the opera.

The opera also uses multiple languages, including Armenian, Greek, Kurdish, Turkish, German, French, and English. This story cannot belong to only one voice or one perspective. The coexistence of languages reflects the coexistence of memories, identities, cultures, and historical experiences. In many ways, language itself becomes a form of memory.

Art cannot repair historical violence or erase historical suffering. However, it can create a space in which people confront complexity rather than reducing history to slogans, simplifications, or silence. For me, this remains one of the essential roles of opera and of art in general.