The Concept of Evil in Aytmatov's Works

Books do not always tell people good things, nor should they. For the world we live in has witnessed far more evil than goodness. It would be easy to blame the world, but we ourselves—humanity—are the creators of this evil. With our endless ambitions and insatiable desires, we have polluted the earth. Yet when the world sings, our true duty is to join in its song, not to cover our ears.

The following lines from Cengiz Aytmatov’s Kassandra Damgası vividly lay bare this condition of humanity:

“The truth is that there is no source of evil on earth other than human beings. Yet each person seeks the origin of evil not in themselves, their family, their lineage, their nation, their state, or even further—in their race, religion, or ideology—but in someone else. And so life continues, sustained by evil. We have even reached the point where embryos protest against life itself. Stop! There is no path forward!”

These words reflect Aytmatov’s profound questioning of humanity. Can evil be prevented? Can the collapse into which humanity is being dragged be halted?

In Kassandra Damgası, the paths of a scientist attempting to decode the genetic code of evil and a futurist intersect, revealing that the greatest threat to humanity has always been humanity itself. Although the novel is adorned with science fiction elements, the moral and philosophical questions it raises remain deeply real and urgently relevant.

It is striking how the futurist interprets the mass suicide of whales as a punishment inflicted upon humanity. In a world where people have become blind to nature and indifferent to the suffering of others, Aytmatov speaks directly to the human conscience. Another echo of this moral appeal appears in his work Yıldırım Sesli Manasçı:

“Is there so much good in this world, so much ‘good’? Can this world forgive so much evil, so much ‘evil’? No, it must not forgive.”

One of the greatest evils inflicted upon humanity and nature is undoubtedly war. Aytmatov’s novel Toprak Ana explores this tragedy in its deepest form. Tolgonay’s cry to Toprak Ana, while struggling to survive amid war, is in fact a universal outcry addressed to all of humanity:

“Tell me, Toprak Ana, tell me the truth: Can human beings not live without war?”

Tolgonay has lost her husband, three sons, and daughter-in-law. War is not fought only on the front lines; women, the elderly, and children left behind suffer no less than soldiers. Aytmatov powerfully conveys the deep wounds war inflicts on the individual through the character of Tolgonay.

In Toprak Ana, the lands left uncultivated due to war have lost their fertility. Nature, like humans, suffers from war. Aytmatov frequently refers to such zones of destruction in his other novels—Gün Olur Asra Bedel, Dişi Kurdun Rüyaları, and Kassandra Damgası. A depleted nature, a polluted environment, desperate people—all are the consequences of human irresponsibility.

Child characters appear frequently in Aytmatov’s works. Seyit in Cemile, the nameless child in Beyaz Gemi, Canbolat in Toprak Ana—all are children who live in hope of reunion, waiting for their fathers. These children symbolize Aytmatov’s own childhood. His childhood during wartime left deep scars on the writer’s soul.

The following words of Sağındık Ömürbayev capture the trauma endured by Aytmatov’s generation:

“O war, you froze us in your frost. The small villages and desolate mountains where our childhood passed now appear to us like mothers and fathers. The longing for our fathers who went to war still pierces our hearts.”

Aytmatov’s own childhood was spent in this cold, in poverty, and in longing. Perhaps for this reason, the voices of children in his works never fall silent.

Cengiz Aytmatov was both a witness to his time and a powerful voice of humanity’s conscience. His works are not merely fictional; they are filled with philosophical, moral, and universal warnings. His reflections on evil, war, the destruction of nature, and the lost innocence of children remain vividly relevant today.

Again, the following passage from Yıldırım Sesli Manasçı encapsulates Aytmatov’s existential questioning of life and death:

“What a great catastrophe it is that the heart never ages! For if the heart does not age, neither do its dreams or thoughts... Death mocks all this and does not let go of the human being. Why was the world constructed this way? The sea maiden was a dream, a fantasy... Let her be, but let her continue—let her continue in this world as she does in the next.”