Exploration
Dousing yourself in oil & having a wrestle is kind of a big deal in Turkey
Believe it or not, 'yağlı güreş' is the oldest continuously sanctioned sporting event in the world. Get around it.
It’s a beautiful July morning, and in the Turkish city of Edirne, two enormous naked men are circling one another, covered in olive oil.
Well, that’s not quite right. Both fighters are naked from the waste up, their legs wrapped in sodden buffalo-leather trousers, tied at the knee with twine. But the slick of extra virgin rubbed over every deltoid does add a suggestive machismo that’s hard to shake. It’s probably the most naked you can be while still wearing pants.
One of the men is two-time national wrestling champion Ismail Balaban. He looks as if he could half nelson a rhinoceros. The other greased goliath is rising Turkish star Orhan Okulu. Approximate combined weight: 240kgs. They’re surrounded by 10,000 Turks, all screaming and cheering in the mid-morning sun.
Turkish oil wrestling still draws a massive crowd.
© Red Bull TV
This is yağlı güreş, or Turkish Oil Wrestling, a sport that’s been practiced in Turkey for over 650 years. Quick pub trivia fact: if anyone asks you the oldest continuously sanctioned sporting competition in the world, you can tell them it’s right here, at the annual Kirkpinar tournament in Edirne. It’s been held every year since 1362, when the Ottoman Empire ruled the east.
The rules of yağlı güreş are pretty simple. Each fighter is known as a ‘pehlivan’ (Turkish for ‘hero’). Before the bout they’re doused in fine, Mediterranean olive oil, poured from an ornate amphora (which is a Greek word for ‘jug’). The object is to wrestle your opponent to the ground and flip them onto their back. The saying goes, ‘When the stomach sees the sky, the fight is over’.
Because each wrestler usually weighs over 100kgs, can bend horseshoes with their bare hands, and is covered head to toe in olive oil, this seemingly simple task is made extremely difficult. The trick is to reach into your opponent’s trousers (called kisbet – made from thick buffalo-leather and weighing over 13kgs), and use the pants as leverage. It’s probably worth mentioning here that underwear if strictly prohibited in yağlı güreş.
Using the pants as leverage is a vital aspect of the sport.
© Red Bull TV
The origins of Turkish oil wrestling, like all really good origins, are shrouded in legend and myth.
The story goes that Ottoman sultan Orhan Gazi launched a military campaign to capture Thrace (a mountainous region on the border of modern-day Greece, Turkey and Bulgaria). One night, while encamped, two of his soldiers started wrestling for fun. The sultan’s brother promised the winner a pair of kisbet (leather pants)…which may not have been a great idea. The two men wrestled from morning to midnight, then simultaneously died from exhaustion (those must have been some really nice pants). Their comrades buried them under a fig tree.
It’s worth noting here that Turkish oil wrestling operates under the same broad organisational structure as a Jedi temple.
Years laters, when the soldiers returned, they noticed small springs had bubbled up on the site. They named the place Kirkpinar (‘40 Springs’), and have been holding oil wrestling matches there ever since. (Perhaps to prevent a similar occurrence, in 1975 authorities limited the duration of wrestling matches to 40 minutes. Before that, bouts could drag on for days.)
Like any national sport, Turkish oil wrestling has its immortal champions. There was the legendary Alico The Bald, who wrestled at the end of the 19th century, and held the Kirkpinar crown for 27 consecutive years. Still a record.
When the stomach sees the sky, the fight is over.
© Red Bull TV
Alico was dethroned by an even bigger freak, Youssiff Ishmaelo (AKA ‘The Terrible Turk’), a hairless giant who allegedly wrestled bulls at the age of nine. In 1897 Ishmaelo set off on a steamer to America, where he defeated monstrous New York fighters with names like Evan ‘The Strangler’ Lewis. In the case of Lewis, Ishmaelo reportedly swung him around by his ankle before launching him into the crowd. (Unfortunately Ishmaelo’s steamer sank on the return journey across the Atlantic. He was last seen sinking beneath the waves, still clinging to all the gold he’d won. He exists now as a sort of Turkish anti-greed parable.)
It’s worth noting here that Turkish oil wrestling operates under the same broad organisational structure as a Jedi temple. Most wrestling masters have an apprentice, called a cirak, who they train in the ancient art of oil wrestling. After the master hangs up the leather pants, his apprentice takes his place.
There’s a reason the sport is taken so seriously. And that reason is gold.
Apparently, making sure your cuffs are tied tight is very important.
© Red Bull TV
Surprisingly, gold is still the prize on offer at Kirkpinar. Each year the overall winner is crowned ‘Baspehlivan’, or Chief Hero. There aren’t many higher honours in Turkish sport. The Baspehlivan gets approximately US$100,000 in cash, a certain social cache, and if they win the title three years running, a sizeable amount of gold. (About 1.5kg all up, plus a 14-carat golden belt – you can see why Ishmael sank like a stone.)
But why the oil, right? Basically the answer is ‘because we’ve always done it in oil.’ But there are a couple of historical theories. The first concerns the nature of wrestling, which has traditionally carried vague spiritual overtones (you see the same thing in Japanese sumo wrestling). The oil in this case represents the balance of spirit and matter. Don’t ask us how. The yağlı güreş fighters also often oil each other, which is a sign of mutual respect.
The second school of thought reckons the oil has something to do with ancient Ottomans trying to ward off malaria-carrying mosquitos. Which doesn’t sound quite as mystical, but is good practical advice.
There is a third doctrine, popular among certain Turkish young ladies, which is, ‘Who the hell cares? Someone fetch more oil.’
Watch Turkish oil wrestlers in action on Red Bull TV's 'Games of Strange':
26 min
Sticks, candles and oil
A sport known as 'the little brother of war' is one of four profiled in this series premiere.