After the protests were dissolved in the historic Saraçhan square in Istanbul, Professor Aslı Tunç got into the subway. In the hope of escaping the street noise. On the platform, a man was quiet behind a snack car near the stairs. Then the following song lines sounded out of a small loudspeaker next to him.
Kufi – the soundtrack of a new generation of protests
“”Padişahı Yine Deviremedik, Abi/Kuzular çok Cahil/Kurtlar Şeytani.. ” (“We still couldn’t overthrow the sultan, man/lambs are too ignorant/the wolves are devilish.”)
“I was standing on the platform,” she recalls. “Suddenly ‘Kufi’ sounded from a loudspeaker. The text filled the station. I got goose bumps. I thought: ‘This is the song of this Protest movement. ‘”
How a song became a symbol
What she heard at the end of March was not a speech choir or manifesto. It was a song full of repetitions and absurdities that boomed from the loudspeaker of a street seller under the streets of Istanbul. But this is exactly how modern protest sounds in the Türkiye. Where humor and art are among the few means to cope with the socio -political environment.
The political situation: arrest of İmamoğlu as a trigger
After the Mayor of Istanbul Ekrem İmamoğlu arrested on March 19 and officially arrested four days later, a wave of protests shook the country. İmamoğlu had previously been convicted of insulting officials in a speech from 2019. And since then, the public prosecutor has charged him with corruption and organized crime in connection with municipal contacts.
Chronology of a turning point
These allegations are still examined and are still opaque for the public. The time of his arrest – at the same time with his announcement of his presidential candidate, expected for the same day – prompted many to see this as a politically motivated blow against the leading democratic opposition party of Turkey, the CHP.
Music as a form of resistance
In response to this, the public took the matter into his own hands and gave itself the streets and on the Internet. Texts such as “Elleri Havada, Kufi Kafada“(” Hands up, Kufi in the head “).
“Kufi” and the tradition of musical protest
“Kufi”, the first song that the Turkish rock band Duman has published in over a decade, became the unexpected soundtrack of a politically charged movement. It is more than just a rock song. He is a hymn sung in protests, booms from the speakers of the subway. And is shared by millions online.
Tikok, Reels and Streaming – The Viral Power of Kufi
The song was streamed on Spotify more than 62 million times. His two Lyric videos on YouTube were viewed more than 50 million times. And it was used in a total of more than 43,000 TikToks and Instagram reels.
Protests with humor: Pikachu becomes a quiet symbol
“Kufi” was not the only unexpected voice that became loud during the protests. One of the most famous figures was Pikachu. Videos of the 21-year-old sports enthusiast Hasan Taşkan, who was disguised as the iconic Pokémon figure, appeared in the protest reports on social media. He neither wore a sign. He still chant or sang. Instead, he moved through the crowd in his bright yellow suit. Sometimes running, sometimes jumping, but mostly just quietly between the demonstrators.
Between Irony and Ernst: Hasan Taşkan in yellow
“I didn’t take this for a certain reason or even protest,” says Taşkan. “The atmosphere was very tense. I chose the Pikachu figure to loosen up the mood. And bring some color into play. I used to wear the costume to entertain small children.”
He hadn’t expected to become a symbol. But as videos of him on the Internet, people reacted. “Thousands said: ‘You made us smile.’ That made me very happy, ”he says. People soon appeared in similar Pikachu costumes. Like that in the photo above. And made his gesture an unexpected trend in the protests.
Others, he notes, were less generous. “There were people who misunderstood me or just wanted to criticize.” Taşkan emphasizes that he never had political intentions “I love my country, my people and my police.”
Voices of the protest: BG, Aslı Tunç and the importance of symbolism
While Taşkan’s costume noticed with his surreal charm, others were involved in a more personal and more thoughtful way for the protests. BG, a Turkish student at Columbia University in New York, was visiting Istanbul and the capital Ankara when the protests began. She became a witness of the protests in both cities. “People marched in huge crowds. And chanted slogans,” she reports. “The tension in the air was something that I had never experienced before.” (BG asked for possible consequences of a public statement to remain anonymous.
Music as a safe form of expression in uncertain times
With the spread of the protests, the song also spread. “‘Kufi’ was actually released on December 13, 2024. But it was only when the demonstrations began that it got really popular.”
Duman, a fixture in the alternative rock scene of Türkiye since the late 1990s, was famous with grunge-influenced albums that combine poetic melancholy with protesting under tones. The band had also attracted attention in previous political crisis times. During the 2013 Gezi Park protests-demonstrations for civil rights and public space that were triggered by an environmental sit-in-action in Istanbul-their song “Eyvallah” became one of the hymns of that time. Duman rejected an interview for this article. But the band explained that she believes that her music expresses everything she wants to say clearly and completely.
It is important for BG that artists express their support. Even if this only happens indirectly. “It is nice to see that a musician is not afraid of being associated with protests. Some are afraid. And others who post something without fear in the end lose their job,” she says. “This type of participation, even if it only happens through music, means something.”
“Kufi” as a cultural memory
Although “Kufi” does not make an obvious political statement, his message has been resonance. “It’s like a code. A form of symbolism,” she adds. “For this reason too, it has become popular. And although some parts of the text have been criticized, this symbolism has remained.” (Some listeners found the text “To Surreal” and said that his cryptic sound left too much space for interpretations.)
She remembers a Tikok video in which Duman’s lead singer joked during a concert. “People constantly ask me when they will throw you in prison.” And he laughed. It is strange, we no longer know whether we should laugh or cry.
Kufi as a sound that has become sound
For BG, music has become a replacement for other forms of protest. “To gather a song, gives people a feeling of belonging, it strengthens the cohesion,” she says. “The fact that at least in some form can still be criticized reminds us that there is still room for expression. Even if it is an insecure soil.”
Exactly this tension between visibility and risk analyzed Aslı Tunç in her career. The professor at Istanbul Bilgi University specializes in media, protest culture and freedom of expression. She doesn’t just see the current moment as a protest. But as a cultural turning point that is probably left to leave. “Every moment of resistance finds its soundtrack,” she says. And refers to examples like Italy’s ‘Bella Ciao’. A folk song that became an anti -fascist anthem during the Second World War. ” Kufi ‘becomes one of these songs, “she adds.” You can no longer wipe it out. Every time we hear it, we will remember these days. “
She sees Duman’s reappearance in the last few months after more than a decade of silence as a conscious sign. “They have always had a silent protest energy,” says Tunç. “Now you are back with texts that are directly, absurd, ironic and brave at this moment.”
“He captures this mechanical, urban loop, the uniformity of political life here”
What started as a cryptic lyrics – “Hands in the Air, Kufi on the Mind” – became something bigger. No slogan. No headline. Just a few words that found their way into playlists, protest chants, schoolyards and social media. They were not sung because it was safe. But because they put into words what could not be said in speeches. And for many it was all.
For Tunç it is the rhythm and the repetition that make the song so memorable. “He captures this mechanical, urban loop, the uniformity of political life here,” she says. “And then turn them into resistance.”