The Polish Embassy: Sharing the city

by Bernard KENNEDY

Witness to over seventy years of friendly relations, the Polish Embassy building in Ankara undoubtedly bears the marks of every twist and turn in Polish history, politics and taste. At the same time, the building and its grounds hold up a mirror to the transformation of Turkey's capital.

Ankara 's Kavaklıdere district slopes down to the city centre from the direction of Çankaya in the south, a green oasis compared to other residential areas. Among the neighbourhood's characteristic trees, parks and gardens, one may still encounter traces of the 'Poplar Brook' from which it takes its name. If Kavaklıdere has weathered the post-1950 urban sprawl better than other districts, history, nature, accident and planning can all claim some of the credit. A contributory factor has been the allocation, from the 1920s onwards, of substantial parcels of land for the construction of various foreign missions.

Among the embassy grounds thus created, the Polish plot, with its woodland charm, is perhaps the most suggestive of how the land lay in pre-Republican times. At the same time, it is the Polish premises which has had the closest dialogue with the changing world around it. Today, the house and garden, tennis court and footpaths lie in full public view, sunk below an undaunting cast-iron railing, with traffic grinding by on all three sides. For its part, the national eagle, perched on the pediment of the white neoclassical facade, blinks not an eyelid as the city continues to jostle at the perimeter of its domain.

Political choice

After Poland closed its diplomatic mission in Istanbul in 1923, consular services were provided at a rented building in Ankara's Aktepe neighbourhood (part of today's Keçiören). The first ambassador, Roman Knoll, was appointed on June 11, 1924. As legend has it, the authorities in the new capital were not slow to offer a more suitable site somewhere "between the Russian and German embassies" for the Polish embassy-to-be. The offer was geographically appropriate but politically incorrect. A year later, the Poles were to settle for their present location - apparently suggested by Prime Minister İsmet İnönü.

Here architect Karol Iwanicki was appointed to design, as a symbol of his newly-independent country, a building that would be a miniature copy of the presidential palace in Warsaw and - more generally - of the homes favoured by the Polish gentry in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Style of diplomacy

The plot was irregular and the Embassy struggled to acquire adjacent pieces of land. In addition, Iwanicki's initial designs proved too expensive. Ground was finally broken in 1928 - some papers reported that Atatürk was present - and by late 1929 a section of the new Embassy was in use. Repairs were required after a fire destroyed the roof in 1935.

The symmetrical two-storey building is dominated by the solid Ionic pillars of its central entrance. Inside, high ceilings and the original, solid, period Polish furniture catch the eye. The upper floor accommodates the reception or meeting rooms: a piano room, a "raspberry room", which protrudes from the building at the rear, and the "hunting room". There is free circulation around the central staircase.

Business is done on the lower floor, the plan of which is quite different, except for the Ambassador's office, which fits below the raspberry room. The wings also provide homes for staff and guests. An annex in matching style contains more flats for Embassy staff, a schoolroom, a library and garages.

New neighbours

Negotiations for neighbouring - and increasingly valuable - land continued, but so did lack of resources. In time, the Kavaklıdere Tennis Club (today’s Kavaklıdere Sporting Club) was to be built within metres of the Embassy's east wall. The Poles were also unable to take over a plot to the south, and their grounds were to be separated from the current Czech ambassador's residence by the İlbank apartment blocks. According to tall stories typical of the 1960s, tennis players braved voracious guard dogs to retrieve lost balls, while Turkish intelligence agents were positioned in the new tower blocks to spy on their communist neighbours.

The Embassy eventually acquired some extra parkland below the Club. Almost simultaneously, however, it was also to relinquish the lowest portion of its grounds to permit the construction of a replacement road connecting the growing Gaziosmanpaşa traffic to the Çankaya road - that is, Atatürk Boulevard.

A different approach

These changes gave the popular Kuğulu Park (Swan Park) its current shape. Ankara's citizens recall the story in different ways: some are thankful for the road and the current arrangement of the park, while others regret the loss of a portion of de facto common land to the Embassy.

In 2000, the connecting road was given the name Polonya Caddesi (Poland Avenue), in belated recognition of Poland's cooperation with the municipal planners. It is the only road in the vicinity with no addresses, since there is not a single building or doorway along its short length. Deprived of its original entrance at the end of a long, diagonal drive, the Embassy makes do with awkward access on the Boulevard side.

Refuge in the woods

On quiet Sunday mornings, the stream which trickles through the Embassy grounds can still be heard babbling. The sound is all that really remains from Ankara's provincial days, since the land was largely cleared for the building of the embassy. The 70 year-old willow, oak and poplars visible today reproduce the earlier eco-system, but the pines, firs and other ornamental plants were introduced later.

Likewise, the adult tortoises that munch the undergrowth have not lived here since time immemorial, as one might fancy. The species may be native, but these specimens arrived in recent years after being "rescued" from dwindling habitats in distant suburbs.

(DIPLOMAT  -  November 2005  -  Ankara)