Maecēnās, vēra amīcitia sempiterna est.

In recent weeks, we lost İlber Ortaylı. Since I write my blog in English, some of you may not be aware of this; however, he was a fountain of knowledge beyond what words can describe. He was a rare person who constantly tried to instill a love for science, history, and a sense of Turkish identity.

Together with his longtime friends Celal Şengör and Fatih Altaylı, he spoke for years about science and history on the program Teke Tek Bilim. It was a show I genuinely enjoyed watching—one where I learned something new in every episode. When you watched them, you didn’t just see knowledge; you saw friendship. Within the same conversation, there was debate, respect, and the ease that only years of companionship can bring.

When I think of “friendship,” two timeless bonds come to mind: Atatürk and İsmet İnönü, and İlber and Celal. One shaped the destiny of a nation together; the other shaped the minds of a generation.

I didn’t originally intend to write about this. In fact, I don’t even have a category for something like this on my blog. But there are things you simply can’t keep inside—you feel the need to write them out.

As an atheist, one of the things I envy the most is being able to say, “we will meet again after death,” and to truly believe it. Because I know that one day, when I become part of the soil, both my body and my consciousness will disappear. And that thought leaves you with a kind of emptiness that is hard to describe—silent, cold, and inevitable.

But then I think… maybe some things don’t truly disappear. The ideas a person leaves behind, the stories they tell, the perspectives they teach… Maybe that is what we call “eternity.” Not physical, but intellectual continuity.

As Cicero once said: “Maecēnās, vēra amīcitia sempiterna est.”
“True friendship is eternal.”

Sometimes, I really want to believe that.
Or maybe not believe… just hold on to it.