The Illusion of Identity

In this journey I’ve embarked upon to trace my root lineage, family background, and nationality, I would like to outline my observations and takeaways so far. This will serve as a significant chapter, and in a way, a chance to get things off my chest.

First off, I should mention that what I am about to say might strike certain groups struggling with identity issues as trivial or laughable. I was born within the borders of the Republic of Turkey, and the identity instilled in me was that of being a Turk and a citizen of Turkey. I would rather not use the word "instilled"—or indoctrinated—because in some civilizations outside Turkey, indoctrination seems to be manufactured through top-down, painful means. The identity imparted to us in Turkey revolved around the events that unfolded during and just prior to the founding of the young Turkish Republic in the 1920s, the struggles endured by the nation, and how we could adopt a realistic outlook against the rest of the world under a shared denominator of citizenship. In short, the general populace of modern Turkey didn't traditionally harbor an obsession over bloodline or genetic purity. Yet, as evidenced by the founding father's words referring to "the noble blood in your veins," I later realized that a quest for blood, lineage, and belonging had always existed among certain local/indigenous groups as well as some immigrant communities. It turns out there were all sorts of anxieties surrounding us that we were entirely unaware of. We were simply being raised to become useful individuals for our homeland and nation.

I suppose this perspective would translate into a bitter, ironic smile on the faces of people living in Russia—those who know all too well what assimilation is, how it is executed, and what it feels like to be subjected to it.

Confronting data in genetic genealogy can shock people. Data feels soulless and static. It is usually tagged with ethnos labels that geneticists and archaeologists may or may not have named accurately, and it falls short of telling the story of hidden or forgotten family histories and migration routes like mine. It simply sits in front of you like a slip containing broad generalizations, showing where your current blood and flesh are most concentrated.

Of course, the consciousness of "Turkishness"—ingrained in me not just through the state, but through family narratives—also helped me grasp the past and present state of this world. For instance, I came to realize how difficult it is to be a Turk in the Caucasus. Throughout history, Turks—alternately branded as barbarians, predators, or state-builders—truly "lost" on the Russian front. This wasn't an ordinary loss; the Ottoman northern front was utterly devastated. I pieced this together through my DNA results, when expected matches failed to appear, and through my habit of researching history and reading academic theses. For example, anyone looking at Russia from the outside who fails to see anti-Turk sentiment is truly blind. I imagine that just like in the Caucasus, being a Turk in Russia is exceptionally difficult. Anti-Islam sentiment follows right behind it. But particularly in the Caucasus, even Islam cannot save the Turks. If you are a Turk, saying La ilaha illallah is not enough; you are also expected to accept that you are not a Turk, and that there were never any Turks in the history of the Caucasus at any point in time.

If you claim otherwise, they come at you with DNA, biased Soviet history, or if those fail, Gulags and the KGB. If you prove it via DNA, they come at you with haplogroups. For example, they say, "The first state named 'Turk' was established in 500 AD, but this haplogroup took shape in 500 BC, so you cannot be a Turk."

My dear friends, this is a farce. As if Russia or Georgia invented their language, religion, and culture the exact moment they were founded—like in a Civilization game where, once a state is established, a language is invented on day one, taught to the masses, culture is created, and coded into the people...

In truth, the identity struggles in the Caucasus, in Russia, in Israel, or anywhere else in the world... They merely reveal how lonely and powerless human beings are on this globe amidst these unknowns. No, I have never been a part of this game. Pity on some Greeks, Armenians, Georgians, Kurds, Adyghes, and the rest of you. Pity on you for constructing your fragile, magical lives on this earth around an illusion of belonging and identity anchored purely to flesh and bone.

Is it truly so hard to grasp that all we really need is to realize we have no flaws, and nothing is wrong with us at all?
I pity those who claim "my culture is more noble" or "we are not inferior."

In reality, they are merely screaming how deeply insecure they truly are.

Searching for Roots: Intellectual Curiosity or Narcissistic Tribalism?

In today's world, where genealogy and genetic testing have become increasingly widespread, many of us set out on a journey to trace the footprints of the past, understand our ancestors' migration routes, and uncover our own historical coordinates. However, two different individuals embarking on this journey with the exact same dataset can arrive at entirely opposite mental destinations by the end of the road: while one reaches a state of universal liberation, the other retreats into the refuge of narrow tribalism.

So, where does that fine line between the pursuit of truth and narcissistic shelter actually lie?

Frankly, I never needed to answer this difficult question myself. Both my maternal and paternal sides already knew they were "defeated peoples" who had fled from somewhere, a story passed down directly by our grandfathers. Therefore, narcissism was never even on the table for me. Yet, on social media platforms and forums where I logged in to inquire about family lore regarding my ancestral roots outside Turkey, my identity and narrative of belonging were so fiercely rejected by groups that had swallowed the anti-Turk sentiment fostered under Russian rule, I might as well say it made me want to become a Turk.

I had to be a Turk, because Turks were truly the ones who were oppressed and continue to be oppressed.

Purpose: To Understand, or to Inflate Oneself?

For a mind driven by intellectual curiosity, genealogical research is a detective process. Its objective is to grasp the dynamics of geography, history, and human mobility. Even if the retrieved data feels static or unexpected, such a mind accepts it as it is and frames it within its proper historical context.

In narcissistic tribalism, however, the objective is not understanding, but masking individual shortcomings with collective pride. Such a person looks at the past through a magnifying glass; they gather only the pieces that stroke their ego and validate the myth that "we are the most noble," while completely disregarding the rest. This condition is at an all-time high in the Caucasus.

The Ultimate Outcome: Liberation, or Acquiring an Armor?

The most distinct difference between these two approaches lies in the emotion felt at the end of the journey.

The tribalist mind that turns the past into armor clings to tribalism even tighter at the end of its investigation. While shouting the superiority of its own culture or bloodline, it merely broadcasts a deeply rooted sense of inadequacy.

In contrast, an individual who traces their roots with intellectual courage arrives at a simple truth at the end of their search: belongings built around flesh and bone are nothing more than an illusion. As they decipher the artificial boundaries of history and genetics, they come to realize humanity's existential loneliness and simplicity on this globe.

Curiosity about our ancestors' past and asking where we come from is a deeply human and valuable impulse. However, the crucial point is not to replace our self-worth with the past, but to recognize how hollow that armor truly is and shed it altogether.

For a free individual who generates their own worth, the past is not a fortress to take shelter in; it is merely a small, humble footnote on the shared stage of human history.