“Here’s looking at you kid…” that famous line uttered by Humphrey Bogart to Ingrid Bergman in the 1940’s film Casablanca could well be the mantra for the evil eye. Transmitted as a malevolent glare, the evil eye has its beginnings in the ancient world and is still taken seriously by many cultures today, including Turkey.

The belief is that to receive the curse of the evil eye will result in misfortune, hardship and disaster. Honour, shame, revenge and envy are at the core of the moral and ethical behaviour code; however, it is envy or greed that is most commonly associated with the evil eye.

Throughout Turkey the profusion of cobalt blue eyes, known as Nazar Boncugu, are hard to miss. From key rings, to magnets, decorated plates, coffee cups, wall hangings, art work, jewellery and t-shirts; take your pick, there will be one for you.

This amulet, known also as the Nazar eye bead, is thought to protect the bearer from the menacing power of the evil eye, so it is not surprising that wherever you go in Turkey you will find souvenir and trinket sellers in every city, village and petrol stop displaying a tempting variety of Nazar amulets. But there is far more to the blue-eyed amulet than just a trinket for tourists.

Scratch the surface; take more than a cursory glance at these trinkets and you will find, as I did, the immersion of the Nazar Boncugu into Turkish culture. My first encounter with the Nazar amulet was in a pottery shop in Istanbul. I was admiring the ornate, colourful designs on pots and bowls when the shop owner approached me and in a kindly gesture said “I know you have come from afar. You will need this to protect you,” as he proceeded to pin a miniature blue eye onto my jacket. I was amused, wondering if it came with an expectation to buy some pottery, but no, it was a sincere gesture of protection.

My second encounter was a week later in the small Turkish village of Selcuk and came with a very similar message. Having finished dinner in a local cafe, the manager asked if he could give me a parting gift. “You have come from far away” he said, “this will protect you for your onward journey,” and again, I received the gift of a miniature blue eye although this one had a tiny gold heart suspended below the eye. “You will now be safe wherever you go on your journey,” he said as I walked confidently out into the summer evening, through the jasmine scented mall, knowing I was safe. I now had two miniature blue-eyed amulets staring back at the world keeping watch over me.

As I began to pay attention to the presence of the Nazar eye beads, the need for protection against the evil eye could be found just about everywhere.

Nazar amulets dangle from the front of houses, keep an eye on guests in hotel reception areas, cafes and businesses, are pinned on babies’ clothing for protection, hang randomly from  rear windows in cars, in buses – one on the driver’s side and one on the passenger’s side – and are even hammered into footpaths. In one case, a number of small Nazar eye beads were hammered around a manhole.

The smallest Nazar eye bead I came across was imprinted on the front of a box of Turkish delight while the largest was in a small village, attached to the front of a bank. The size of a full moon rising in the night sky, the blue eye stared out at the community, warding off those with ill intent and offering a sign of protection for the bank. By now, I am obsessed with spotting the Nazar eye beads.

The belief in the evil eye dates back to Classical Antiquity and has existed for thousands of years across generations and cultures. Many scholars of ancient times referred to and described the effects of the evil eye in their discussions and writings. Dr Nese Yildiran, an art history professor from Istanbul, in an interview with BBC Culture believes that the “earliest versions of eye amulets go back to 3,300BC” with evidence of these findings being unearthed In Tell Brak, one of the old cities of Mesopotamia, now Syria.

Archeological findings from late antiquity (3rd to 7th centuries AD) which are exhibited in many museums in the Mediterranean and Aegean regions display coins, beads, pottery and relics depicting the evil eye attesting to the long-held importance of the belief. Throughout history religious texts in the Christian, Islamic and Jewish traditions similarly make reference to the evil eye.

There are many studies by researchers from such varied backgrounds as folkloric studies, the classics, sociology, psychiatry, religion, philosophy and anthropology who have investigated, from their perspective, the meaning of the evil eye from a social and cultural point of view.

Alan Dundes, an American Professor of Anthropology in an interview stated that the evil eye is a ‘belief complex’ which imagines that a person  has the power to damage another person and inflict illness, damage property or cause death simply by gazing at or praising that person. Dundes says that it is the power of the look that concerns people. As a way of explaining the superstition of the evil eye, Dundes refers to James Lennon, a Californian architect, who produced a collection of large transparent panels featuring a row of frowning abstracted eyes which hung in several stores. During the test period of these panels, shoplifting was significantly reduced.

At our hotel in Selcuk, a number of amulets hang in and around the reception area, small blue eyes peeping and large blue eyes peering out from prominent places. I notice the receptionist, wears a bracelet with the eye distinctive on the band of the bracelet. “Does that work?” I ask mentioning her colourful bracelet. “I don’t know if it does but I would rather have the eye around me than not have any sign of it anywhere. You never know,” she replied with a smile. This was not an uncommon response.

In Cappadocia, overlooking the Goreme Valley the Evil Eye Tree, set amongst rocky terrain is profusely decorated with varying sizes of the blue eye amulets.  There is also a similar tree in Pigeon Valley, located between Goreme and Uchisar where true to its name it is pigeon paradise. There the Evil Eye Tree, standing like an intrusive interloper, is dripping with colourful blue eye amulets as it watches over all in a stark and captivating landscape. A tour guide can easily arrange a visit to both trees.

In Central Anatolia, Meke Lake, a volcanic crater lake, is known as the “world’s largest evil eye amulet.” It is disappointing however, that this once beautiful area has been ravished by drought and unregulated water usage due mainly to agriculture overuse leaving only minimal water in the lake. There is some hope that the problems facing this distinctive environmental formation will be addressed so that the lake can once again be restored to life.

A short distance from Izmir on the Turquoise Coast, the small town of Nazarkoy specializes in making Nazar eye beads. It’s an easy bus ride to the village, or if you prefer, take a taxi as parking is limited in the narrow streets of the village. The town comes alive on weekends when market shops display any number of amulets and there is the opportunity to watch the resident glass blowers making the Nazar eye beads.  I buy a selection of these mementoes to take home to family and friends.

A month later and a world away from the Nazar eye beads of Turkey; I am ordering a meal at an evening market in my home city of Adelaide. On a small ledge behind the counter I notice a solitary blue eye, displaced from its culture, dangling precariously from a small shelf, staring forlornly out at the world. It is a Nazar eye bead, protecting a shrine containing photo memorabilia of deceased ancestors from the Aegean region.  

I tell Omer, the manager, of my journey through Turkey and my fascination with the Nazar eye bead. Taking time out from serving, Omer tells me the amulet is incompatible with religion and stands outside the understanding of religion, however, when I query why he has it there he laughs and replies, “Well, I think it’s better to hedge your bets, just in case.” And so with that illuminating piece of advice I go home and hang a blue-eyed amulet on the front of my house in memory of all the Nazar eye beads in Turkey and to hedge my bets, just in case!

Header image: © Lizavetta