Nothing good ever comes from a phone call in the middle of the night.
When my colleague on the other end asked, “Have you seen the news of Fethullah Gulen Hodjaefendi’s passing? Let’s go live immediately,” I struggled to grasp the news—the gravity of it all.
“Fethullah Gulen has passed away.”
I had always known a day would come when I’d receive such news, but at the same time, I had persistently ignored the thought, wishing that day would never arrive.
Such is the life of a journalist.
As long as the deceased isn’t you, no matter how deeply the loss affects you, you must suppress your feelings and appear on screen.
That midnight on Sunday, we did an urgent breaking broadcast, sharing the initial information about the event, and then I set off for Pennsylvania.
For the following five days, I closely followed the developments in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
On the road, my mind was swirling with complex thoughts and emotions.
Firstly, I had known Fethullah Gulen Hodjaefendi for 30 years.
I first heard of him when I started my studies at Ege University’s Faculty of Communication, through books and writings by Cumhuriyet columnist Hikmet Cetinkaya.
During the same period, I had friends involved in the Gulen Movement.
Then, I read his autobiography, My Small World. In those days, there was no internet, and few even knew what Fethullah Gulen looked like.
There were high-energy audio tapes of Gulen that circulated hand-to-hand.
I listened to all of them.
He had touched my life, and a connection was formed that lasted until today.
It wasn’t so much the religious or sociological aspects that affected me, but rather Gulen’s personal story.
We first met in person during a trip I made to the U.S. in 2005. At the time, Gulen’s modest house, where he had lived for nearly 20 years, was smaller.
There was a simple dining area. Gulen arrived like everyone else, took his food, and sat down.
As he ate his meal, which consisted of soup, salad, and a main dish, he chatted with his guests.
One of my friends, an academic, mentioned to Gulen, “Sir, Adem is a skilled photographer and even taught me a few lessons.” Gulen responded, “Is that so? That’s something I regret. When I was a child, my father had a camera, but I never got to explore it as much as I wanted.”
Meeting and discussing photography with Gulen, someone whose books I had read and whose audio tapes I had listened to in my university years, was an unexpected surprise.
In the following years, I happened to visit his Pennsylvania camp on various occasions.
While living in America, whenever I had the chance, I would visit Fethullah Gulen. Each visit brought new insights, and I would listen attentively to his talks.
More than anything, Gulen was an epitome of kindness to me.
In his modest room, he would personally welcome his guests, sharing fascinating anecdotes with his incredible memory.
Once, when I visited him some time after I had been physically attacked by Erdogan’s security guards during a U.S. visit, Gulen mentioned that he had heard the news and felt sorry for what happened.
When Erdogan’s regime seized our newspaper and forced us into exile, he even inquired how I was managing to survive, showing great sensitivity to my situation—a memory I cannot forget.
He would occasionally ask about my young daughter’s health issues as well. As I said, he was a model of kindness to me.
As I approached the retreat center, officially called the Chestnut Retreat Center, where Turkish politicians, journalists, and academics knew every inch of the grounds, I was filled with mixed emotions.
Yes, as a journalist, I would cover the developments, broadcast reports, and write articles, but at the same time, I would be bidding farewell to a dear friend.
Passing by the building where Gulen’s modest room was located, it hit me hard that he would no longer be there.
There was an atmosphere of sadness throughout the camp. Even the cats at the camp seemed sorrowful to me.
Only a few of Gulen’s close, non-imprisoned relatives, students, and friends were left, and they were handling the funeral arrangements with great composure.
It wasn’t easy. His followers and students from around the world would be coming to perform their final duties.
However, the small town that hosted the camp would not be able to accommodate such a large number of people.
There was an effort to coordinate with local authorities, arrange logistics, and organize the funeral in a manner befitting Gulen.
Everyone I spoke with and observed was deeply saddened.
The only sounds breaking the silence in the camp were from the propaganda drones of the Erdogan regime, bent on harassment and provocation rather than actual journalism.
For instance, I met with family members and camp administrators to gather details about the funeral prayer and burial.
I shared these details on YouTube broadcasts, including where the burial would take place. However, pro-government channels like CNN broadcast drone footage and spread shameless lies.
Then, citing “intelligence from security units,” they broadcast what they actually wished were true.
It was shameful coverage.
But today is not a day to dwell on the disgrace of Erdogan’s media.
Everything is evident as it is.
After days of preparation, on Thursday, Gulen was sent off on his final journey. The camp management’s swift handling of such an immense organization was commendable.
In the end, over 20,000 people came from all corners of the world to a small town in rural Pennsylvania. Because no local venue could accommodate this many people, the funeral prayer was held at SkyLand Stadium in New Jersey.
As Fethullah Gulen’s body was brought to the stadium for the funeral prayer, thousands of his followers made their way through hills and valleys to join the prayer.
Despite the well-organized event, traffic congestion caused a delay of about an hour. Thousands filled the field, bidding farewell to Gulen with dignity.
Silently weeping, whispering prayers, and holding onto their emotions.
I spent hours taking photos and broadcasting. People from European countries to Sub-Saharan Africa—people of various races and nationalities—had come to bid farewell to Gulen.
As his disciples carried Gulen’s body to the prayer stand, I thought the crowd would surge forward, eager to touch the coffin. But I was wrong.
Thousands of people made no such outburst. They bade farewell to Gulen in silence, with solemn dignity.
Professor Dr. Suat Yildirim led the funeral prayer, after which students of various generations once again bore the coffin on their shoulders, sending Gulen off on his final journey to eternity.
Only close family members and students attended the burial at the camp where Gulen had lived in exile for many years. Recognized Muslim community leaders from across the U.S. were also present.
Soil from 33 countries and cities, including Mecca and Medina, was placed in Gulen’s grave.
With Quran recitations, prayers, and tears, Gulen was finally laid to rest. In the coming days, his followers and students will visit his grave.
Late at night, after a 12-hour broadcast marathon, as I wrote these words, his students were reciting Quran beside his grave.
I Didn’t Know Fethullah Gulen From Propaganda Media
I held a deep respect for Fethullah Gulen, someone I had personally observed for 30 years and whose story I had heard from key figures along the way.
In my view, Fethullah Gulen Hodjaefendi is a true revolutionary—a man who left a remote village in Erzurum and, on his own, shaped the last 50 years of Turkey, establishing a worldwide movement.
Make no mistake, if a secular leftist had accomplished what Gulen did, statues would have been erected in his honor, and he would have received a Nobel Prize.
A religious leader who championed schools, science, dialogue—and, most importantly, didn’t leave it in mere words.
While others in his field were debating trivial matters on television, Gulen was opening educational institutions.
He encouraged businessmen to go global and worked for thousands of young people to pursue higher studies in prestigious universities in Europe and America.
What set Gulen apart was that he was both a thinker and a man of action. When he talked about education, schools, and social welfare, he didn’t just stop there; he motivated people and resources to make it happen.
I saw the unique aspect of Gulen through his followers worldwide, people who have done monumental work in history following his lead.
As I said, it’s not my place to analyze Gulen’s scholarly, religious, and literary qualities.
For me, he held an irreplaceable place in my life. Over the 30 years I spent within this movement, I saw the opposite of the demonizing narratives pushed by the regime.
From Gulen, I only witnessed kindness, sincerity, and a heartfelt spirit.
In short, I didn’t know Fethullah Gulen through Erdogan’s propaganda media, and I won’t change my opinion based on them.
I knew Gulen well and feel fortunate to have known and met him.
