- ‘After the Arab world itself, Umm Kulthum’s largest fan base in the Middle East was in Türkiye,’ according to author Murat Ozyildirim

ISTANBUL

When Turkish singer Arif Altunkaya first heard Umm Kulthum’s voice at the age of 19, it stopped him cold.

“I remember thinking, if what we’re making is music, then what is this?” Altunkaya said, recalling his first encounter with her 1964 classic Enta Omri (You’re My Life) around 2006 or 2007. “You can't help but start comparing. And of course, it really hit me – shook me, actually. Because you're listening to something that is far, far above what you're doing."

Until then, Altunkaya had been familiar with Arabic music but had never encountered the Egyptian singer whose voice would come to redefine his artistic life.

What Altunkaya felt that day echoes with what Egyptian writer Abbas Mahmoud al-Aqqad once said: "Umm Kulthum proved that singing is not only the art of throats and mouths, but also the art of minds and hearts."

Altunkaya's experience is not unique. Though nearly half a century has passed since her death in 1975, Umm Kulthum still holds a special place in Türkiye's musical memory, her voice continuing to move listeners who often do not understand Arabic but still feel its emotional depth.

Murat Ozyildirim, author and lecturer emeritus, has documented this phenomenon in his book, Umm Kulthum and the Turks.

"Without any exaggeration, after the Arab world itself, Umm Kulthum's largest fan base in the Middle East was in Türkiye," Ozyildirim told Anadolu in an interview.

As Egypt declared 2025 the "Year of Umm Kulthum" to mark the 50th anniversary of her death, Ozyildirim's book was published the same year in tribute to the artist in both Turkish and Arabic.

When radio went silent

The Turkish obsession with the Egyptian diva was born not just of talent, but of necessity.

Umm Kulthum’s rise in Türkiye dates back to the late 1930s, a period shaped by both political reform and cultural exchange. Between 1934 and 1936, Turkish classical music was banned from radio broadcasts as part of the country’s Westernization drive. Deprived of familiar sounds, many listeners turned to Egyptian radio – then the most powerful broadcaster in the region, according to Ozyildirim.

“People were looking for the Eastern music they were used to on the radio. So they tuned into Egyptian radio – the best in the Middle East then,” Ozyildirim said.

“It is important to remember that Egypt, as part of the Ottoman Empire, was a place where we had significant cultural influence and were influenced in return. So in a place with such cultural similarities – they (Egyptian radios) played not only Arabic music but Turkish music as well. That's why Egyptian radios attracted a huge Turkish audience,” he added.

Power of cinema

At the same time, Egyptian cinema flourished. Films starring Umm Kulthum were screened in Turkish theaters, allowing audiences to see and hear her at a time when television did not yet exist.

Umm Kulthum appeared in a total of six films throughout her lifetime: Wedad (1936), Nashid al-Amal (1937), Dananir (1940), Aydah (1942), Salamah (1945), and Fatmah (1947).

According to Ozyildirim, three of these were films shown in Türkiye – Nashid al-Amal, Wedad and Dananir.

“I haven't been able to find any advertisements or evidence for whether or not Fatmah and Salamah were actually shown in Türkiye,” Ozyildirim said. “But the other three films have dozens of newspaper ads."

"We can't get accurate box office numbers from the records of that period, but the films screened for months,” he noted.

Ozyildirim cited a Sept. 26, 1939 advertisement in Cumhuriyet newspaper that captured the excitement surrounding the screening of Nashid al-Amal at Istanbul's Taksim Cinema.

"Doors are breaking ... People are rushing ... A massive crowd is invading Taksim Cinema ... because ... the vocal queen of the East, Umm Kulthum's Song of Hope (Nashid al-Amal) masterpiece is breaking ... records that no film has ever achieved before," the advertisement read.

Mutual influence

Ozyildirim emphasized that the relationship between Turkish and Egyptian music was not one-sided.

He said Umm Kulthum maintained close friendships with prominent Turkish artists, including Muzeyyen Senar, Munir Nurettin Selcuk and Perihan Altindag Sozeri, who traveled to Egypt and interacted directly with her.

Altindag Sozeri even performed Arabic songs from Umm Kulthum’s repertoire, including one with Turkish lyrics.

Senar later recalled seeing hundreds of Turkish records in Umm Kulthum’s home and shared that the Egyptian singer spoke broken Turkish, having learned dozens of words from Turks living in Egypt.

“She knew Turkish music,” Ozyildirim said, “just as Turkish artists of that era were well-versed in Arab music.”

Musically, Ozyildirim said, Umm Kulthum also left a structural imprint. Her use of large orchestras – blending traditional instruments with Western ones and multiplying the number of violins – influenced musical practices in Türkiye, particularly from the 1960s onward.

A hidden afterlife

For Ozyildirim, Umm Kulthum's popularity in Türkiye peaked between the late 1930s and late 1950s – roughly 30 years when her concerts were broadcast on radio and her films packed cinemas.

But confining her influence to just that period, he argued, would be a great injustice.

"Umm Kulthum was a name familiar to Turkish audiences for around 30 years," he said. "However, in the 1960s, 70s, and even the 80s, various sections of many songs sung by Umm Kulthum were composed with Turkish lyrics within Turkish arabesque music.”

“Her name was not written, but many arabesque singers performed works derived from Umm Kulthum," he explained. "Short sections suitable for local tastes were taken from her long songs, new lyrics were written, and composers released them under their own names.”

The public listened to these pieces with great admiration as they were sung by well-known Turkish artists, often unaware of their origins. "Unfortunately, Umm Kulthum's name was often not credited in these adaptations," Ozyildirim said. "Yet, she continued to exist in the Turkish music world through her songs."

One of the most striking aspects of Umm Kulthum’s influence in Türkiye is that it transcended language.

“They didn’t understand the lyrics,” Ozyildirim said. “But they loved the music – and especially her voice. This is not a claim. It’s a fact.”

Umm Kulthum herself was aware of this devotion. Ozyildirim said she once told a Turkish journalist that fan letters from Türkiye excited her the most.

A modern devotion

Turkish artist Altunkaya sees the same dynamic today. On stage, audiences often request her best-known songs.

"People ask for the popular songs. For example, Enta Omri – or very popular songs like Alf Leila wa Leila," he explained. "No one comes and asks me for Laylat Hubb or Thawrat al-Shakk, of course. Those are more classical works."

Still, the fact that any Turkish audience requests these songs at all speaks to Umm Kulthum's enduring presence. "Umm Kulthum is truly known and loved in Türkiye," Altunkaya said.

He believes her music operates on a level beyond words.

“I see Umm Kulthum as something beyond art,” Altunkaya said, “In the world, there is art and then there is Umm Kulthum’s music.”

In 2014, he and his friends who were fans of Umm Kulthum founded Tarab Istanbul, an ensemble of Turkish and Syrian musicians dedicated to her repertoire.

The project eventually stalled for lack of funding. But when asked about his relationship with the singer whose voice changed his life nearly two decades ago, Altunkaya's answer remained as certain as ever.

"My first love, my artistic love, is Umm Kulthum. I can't put anything else in her place."

How deep does this love run?

"Right up to my dreams," he said. "Even up to the dream I had today."