Twenty years after his untimely death, Kazım Koyuncu – a Laz musician, activist, and cultural icon from Turkey’s northeastern city of Artvin – is remembered not just for his poignant melodies, but for his fierce defence of marginalised identities, endangered languages, and the environment.
Koyuncu died from cancer on 25 June 2005 at the age of 33. Known as “the boy with the poet’s jacket”, he gave voice to the struggles of Turkey’s northern ethnic communities and beyond, singing in Laz, Hemshin, Georgian, and Mingrelian. His music transcended language, echoing demands for peace, justice, and ecological preservation.
Born in 1971 in the village of Yeşilköy (Pançoli) in Artvin’s Hopa (Khopa) district near the Georgian border, Koyuncu’s early fascination with music began with a mandolin gifted by his father. As a university student in İstanbul in the early 1990s, he was arrested for distributing leaflets on May Day and later dropped out of university to pursue a full-time music career.
That decision changed the face of ethnic music in Turkey. In 1992, Koyuncu co-founded the experimental band Dinmeyen, releasing the album Sisler Bulvarı (Boulevard of Mists), a record marked by politically conscious lyrics. He soon parted ways with the band to establish Zuğaşi Berepe (Children of the Sea), a groundbreaking rock group that performed in the Laz language — a move virtually unheard of at the time.
With albums Va Mişkunan (We Don’t Know) in 1995 and İgzas (He Is Going) in 1998, Koyuncu helped bring attention to the threatened Laz language and regional music. “We gave voice to the resistance of disappearing languages,” he once said, adding, “Today’s youth are no longer ashamed of speaking Laz. That alone is our success.”
Despite their success, Zuğaşi Berepe disbanded in 1999. But Koyuncu’s solo career flourished. In 2001, he released Viya, followed by Hayde in 2004 — both praised for blending traditional instruments such as the tulum (a Black Sea bagpipe), kemenche (fiddle), and kavala (flute) with electric guitars, drums, and electronic elements.
His artistry reached national television when he composed music for the popular Turkish series Gülbeyaz and appeared in several episodes. Still, Koyuncu remained defiantly political, using every stage to speak out against injustice. His first solo concert was held in Diyarbakır (Amed), a predominantly Kurdish city, where he greeted the audience by saying: “I bring greetings from the children of the sea to the children of the mountains.”
His words and music resonated widely. Shortly after his death, the first public memorial was held by the Kurdish-majority Sur Municipality in Diyarbakır. Veli Büyükşahin, then deputy head of the Democratic People’s Party (DEHAP), remarked, “This country made Kazım Koyuncu sick,” recalling Koyuncu’s own words: “It wasn’t Chernobyl that gave me cancer, it was the system in Turkey.”
Indeed, Koyuncu was a loud critic of environmental devastation along Turkey’s Black Sea coast. One of his fiercest battles was against the construction of the Black Sea Coastal Highway, which he saw as a cultural and ecological disaster.
“Either you’re incredibly foolish, or deliberately malicious if you approve this project,” he said, lashing out at local politicians and developers. The album title Viya — referring to a traditional game of riding waves — was chosen in protest. “Children once played with waves. Now you’ve buried those memories under concrete,” he explained.
Koyuncu also opposed gold mining with cyanide in his native Artvin and the construction of hydroelectric dams in the Fırtına Valley. “Earthquakes, landslides — are these fate? No. These are political decisions driven by greed and stupidity,” he said, denouncing government policies that ignored ecological sustainability.
His activism extended to nuclear disasters. After the 1986 Chernobyl meltdown, Turkish officials tried to downplay the danger, famously drinking tea on television to ‘prove’ it was safe. Koyuncu never forgot. “Chernobyl’s poison wasn’t just radiation,” he said. “It was the indifference of those who were supposed to protect us.”
Though often sidelined by mainstream media, Koyuncu’s legacy endured through his deep connection to Turkey’s forgotten tongues and cultures. His 2007 posthumous compilation Dünyada Bir Yerdeyim (Somewhere in the World), released by the People’s Houses (Halkevleri) civic movement, included songs in four minority languages — a testament to his cultural pluralism.
His belief in the universality of music as a tool for justice continues to inspire a new generation of artists. In a society increasingly divided by politics, religion, and ethnicity, Koyuncu’s voice remains a symbol of unity, peace, and defiance.
“I am a musician, a bit of a Black Sea person,” Koyuncu once said, “but above all, I am a revolutionary.”
