The Unofficial Citizens of Istanbul: Why Cats Hold the Key to the City’s Soul

Anyone who spends time in Istanbul notices the same thing. Before the history, before the Bosphorus, before the skyline, there are the cats. They move through the city with an ease that feels almost ancient, as if they have always been here and the rest of us are simply passing through.

The documentary Kedi (2016), directed by Ceyda Torun, follows seven of these cats across Istanbul's neighborhoods. It catches something true about the city: cats here are not curiosities, not strays in the Western sense of the word. They are familiar presences whose daily movements are known, whose personalities are discussed, and whose absence would be felt in a specific and irreplaceable way.

1. The Cat as the City’s Pulse

Many residents believe that removing the cats would take something essential from Istanbul. This is recognition of a long coexistence, not sentiment for its own sake. These animals mirror the chaotic, stubbornly independent nature of the city itself.

"If the cats disappear, part of Istanbul disappears." This sentence feels true because Istanbul has grown alongside its cats across centuries of change. Each generation of the city has fed them. The cats remember, in their way, even when everything else has been rebuilt.

2. More Than a Pet: Healing, Meaning, and the Search for Grace

For some of the people in Kedi, a cat is the difference between despair and resilience.

A woman recovering from emotional exhaustion describes feeding cats as "total therapy," explaining that the routine of caring for another living being brought her back to herself.

Others speak of cats as quiet spiritual companions. They believe animals absorb negative energy, ease tension, and open space where kindness is easier to give.

One fisherman says the cats on his boat calm him the same way prayer beads do.

Another person describes caring for animals as a path placed in front of them, a way of practicing generosity without expecting anything in return.

3. The Characters Who Run the Neighborhoods

One of the strengths of Kedi is that it refuses to portray cats as a single category.

Each of the seven cats in the film has a distinct personality, shaped by the streets they inhabit.

Sarı ("yellow/blonde") is a working mother. She hustles the sidewalk cafes without apology, pulling food from plates and counters. The reason comes later in the film: she has kittens waiting.

Duman ("smoke/mist") stations himself outside a delicatessen and waits. He is quiet, patient, and precise about what he wants. The owner eventually yields. Like his name, he appears and disappears at the edges of attention.

Bengü (an old Turkish word meaning "eternal") lives in an industrial setting but loves to be brushed. She leans into people with complete trust. The contrast between her surroundings and her softness is what makes her impossible to overlook.

Aslan Parçası ("piece of a lion") patrols the waterside restaurants along the Bosphorus, hunting rats and mice. The name is earned. He takes his territory seriously.

Gamsız means "carefree," and he lives exactly that way. Charming, mischievous, and persistent. He approaches doors sideways and lifts a single paw as if knocking politely. Everyone in the neighborhood recognizes the gesture.

Psikopat ("psychopath") is the neighborhood's self-appointed enforcer. She chases dogs twice her size. People give her space. She has become a local legend because she demands nothing from anyone and tolerates nothing she has not chosen to tolerate. In the film, she is described as the "neighborhood terrorist," a title she appears to accept.

Deniz ("sea") moves through the market with the calm of someone who has been doing this for years. Her name carries the geography of the city.

And then there is Kanyon Kedi, not from the 2016 documentary but from a more recent chapter of the same story. She lives at the entrance of Kanyon AVM in Levent on the European side of Istanbul, and she became the building's unofficial mascot.

People came specifically to see her. In 2025, her bed, food bowl, and water bowl were stolen. Within hours the incident was on X. The public response was immediate and loud, and within days she had a more comfortable space than before. The speed of that reaction said something about how seriously Istanbul takes the animals it considers its own.

You can follow Kanyon Kedi on Instagram at @kanyonkedii, where people continue to check in on her as part of the daily life of the city.

4. Honesty Without Performance

Many cultures misread cats as ungrateful. The people in Kedi offer a different account.

They describe cats as honorable because they do not perform affection. They show love freely but will not fake it. One belief shared in the film: a dog thinks its human is God, while a cat believes God provides the food and the human is only the messenger.

This is honesty about what a relationship actually is. Cats seem to understand that closeness and ownership are different things, and they act accordingly.

5. From Ships to Sewers: How History Shaped the Cat City

The presence of so many cats in Istanbul is not accidental. Cihangir, one of the city's most recognized cat districts, used to be a port. Cats traveled on ships for pest control. When some stayed behind, they thrived in the city's dense streets.

Later, as Istanbul built its first modern sewer systems in the late nineteenth century, rats multiplied rapidly. Cats became indispensable in homes and warehouses. Their role as urban guardians was established long before anyone thought to romanticize them.

6. When the City Pushes Back

This picture would be incomplete without a harder section.

The majority of Istanbul's residents treat cats with the kind of casual care that has defined this city for centuries. A bowl of water left by a door, a plate of food on a step, a trip to the vet for an injured cat that belongs to no one in particular. This is ordinary life here.

But a small minority acts differently, and the public response to that minority is part of the same story.

In May 2026, a market worker in Kocaeli's Karamürsel district called a street cat over with "Gel annem gel" ("Come here, mama") and then sprayed degreaser directly into the cat's face. The cat ran under a car. She followed and kept spraying. Another woman filmed the scene, saying "Yazık hayvana" ("Poor animal"). The video spread across social media within hours. The worker was arrested, released under judicial supervision, and fired by the market chain the same day. The chain issued a public statement. The incident drew national attention, not because this kind of cruelty is common, but because when it happens the response is always fast and fierce.

The 2024 stray animal law reopened a much older wound. The law primarily targeted dogs and allowed euthanasia of collected animals. Animal rights organizations, veterinarians, and ordinary citizens protested across the country. In Istanbul, İzmir, and Ankara people took to the streets. Several opposition-led municipalities announced they would not implement the law. The debate continues at the time of writing.

This pattern has historical depth. In 1910, the ruling İttihat ve Terakki government struck a deal to sell Istanbul's street dogs to France for laboratory use. Around 80,000 dogs were collected from the streets and held at Tophane. Before they could be shipped, France cancelled the contract. With no plan for what to do with the animals, the government sent them to Sivriada, a bare, rocky island in the Marmara Sea. No water, no shade, no vegetation. Citizens rowed boats to the island with food for as long as they could manage. Eventually the distance and the scale made it impossible.

The dogs died of hunger and thirst. Their howling was said to carry across the water to the Asian shore at night. Istanbul connected the Balkan War that followed to this act. The island has been called Hayırsız Ada, "the Island Without Mercy," ever since.

In the official records the name is still Sivriada. In the city's memory it is something else.

The public conscience rejected what the government had done. It has not stopped doing so across the century that followed.

If you want to read more about the Ottoman tradition of care for street animals and how it shaped the city's culture over centuries, I've written about it in detail in my earlier post: The Ottoman Empire: A Historical Haven for Street Animals.

7. Turkish Vocabulary: Cats, Care, and the City

For readers learning Turkish, the words below appear regularly in conversations about street cats, animal welfare, and urban life in Turkey.

Turkish	English
kedi	cat
sokak kedisi	street cat
mahalle kedisi	neighborhood cat
kedi evi / kedi yuvası	cat shelter / cat house
kedi maması	cat food
mama kabı	food bowl
su kabı	water bowl
beslemek	to feed
korumak	to protect
sahipsiz hayvan	stray animal
barınak	animal shelter
hayvansever	animal lover
hayvan hakları	animal rights
kamu vicdanı	public conscience
yasa / kanun	law
ötanazi	euthanasia
gözaltı	detention
adli kontrol	judicial supervision
maskot	mascot
mahalle	neighborhood

Kamu vicdanı, public conscience, is a phrase that appears in Turkish media almost every time an animal welfare incident goes viral. It describes the collective moral response that rises quickly and historically does not stay quiet.

Two cat idioms worth knowing:

Kedi gibi dört ayak üstüne düşmek means to survive a difficult situation intact. Literally: "to fall like a cat, on all four feet."

Kedi olalı bir fare tuttu describes someone who finally succeeds after many failed attempts. Literally: "since becoming a cat, it caught one mouse."

A Final Note

If you walk through Istanbul today and a cat crosses your path, watch for a moment. Watch how it claims the sun on a stone step. Watch how it accepts your food without losing its composure.

The city grew alongside its cats. The relationship is centuries old, and mutual in ways that no policy could fully account for.

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Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)

Q: Why are there so many cats in Istanbul?

A: Istanbul's history as a major port city brought cats as working animals on ships. Over centuries they became part of neighborhood life. The Ottoman tradition of feeding and protecting street animals, grounded in both religious practice and urban habit, reinforced their presence. You can read more about this tradition here.

Q: Is religion the main reason cats are treated well in Turkey?

A: Religion is one factor. The Prophet Muhammad's care for cats is well documented in Islamic tradition and shapes cultural attitudes in Muslim societies. But the practice is also rooted in neighborhood habit, long urban tradition, and the practical history of cats as working animals in a port city.

Q: What does kamu vicdanı mean?

A: It means "public conscience." In Turkish media and public discourse, this phrase describes the collective moral response of ordinary people to acts they consider unjust or cruel. It appears often in coverage of animal welfare incidents.

Q: Are there Turkish expressions about cats?

A: Several. Kedi gibi dört ayak üstüne düşmek means to survive a difficult situation intact. Kedi olalı bir fare tuttu describes someone who finally succeeds after many tries.