BAKU, August 16 — The dominance of Turkish TV series in Azerbaijan is undeniable. From prime-time dramas to historical epics, Turkish productions have long been a staple of Azerbaijani television. Yet as their popularity grows, so does a debate: should these films and series continue to air in their original Turkish, or should they be dubbed into Azerbaijani?
Honored Artist Najiba Huseynova has voiced a strong opinion. In an interview with Report, she criticized the current practice of broadcasting Turkish productions without Azerbaijani dubbing.
“Are we not Azerbaijanis? Is our native language not Azerbaijani? Do they show movies in Turkey in Azerbaijani? If a nation does not protect its language, it is doomed to extinction,” she said.
A Shared Language, But Not the Same
For many, the closeness of Turkish and Azerbaijani makes dubbing seem unnecessary. Audiences can understand Turkish without major difficulty, and networks often defend the practice as cost-effective. But linguists point out that even small differences in grammar, vocabulary, and pronunciation matter when it comes to cultural identity.
Turkish words and expressions, increasingly absorbed into everyday Azerbaijani speech through TV and social media, risk slowly displacing native equivalents. Critics warn that this can erode the richness of the Azerbaijani language over time.
Historical Precedent: From Soviet Dubbing to Today
The issue of dubbing foreign films is not new in Azerbaijan. During the Soviet era, virtually all imported films—from Hollywood blockbusters to Indian classics—were dubbed into Russian. Local Azerbaijani dubbing studios also flourished, producing voiceovers for both foreign and domestic films.
That system ensured audiences consumed media in a familiar linguistic frame. Today, however, broadcasters often take the cheaper route of airing Turkish content as-is, relying on mutual intelligibility rather than investing in full Azerbaijani dubbing.
The Global Picture: How Other Nations Handle It
The Azerbaijani case is not unique. Countries worldwide use dubbing or subtitling policies as tools of cultural protection.
France, Spain, and Germany dub nearly all imported films to preserve their linguistic space.
Scandinavian countries prefer subtitling, arguing that exposure to English is useful.
Turkey itself, however, almost never airs foreign films in Azerbaijani, Georgian, or Kurdish—underscoring Huseynova’s point about reciprocity.
If Azerbaijan continues without dubbing, some fear it may gradually normalize the presence of Turkish at the expense of Azerbaijani’s primacy in the media.
Cultural Identity at Stake
For Huseynova and others, the heart of the debate is not simply about entertainment, but about national survival. Language is more than words—it is memory, heritage, and identity. Allowing another language, however close, to dominate screen culture risks blurring those lines.
“If a nation does not protect its language, it is doomed to extinction,” Huseynova warned, echoing a sentiment that resonates far beyond the world of cinema.
What Comes Next?
The question now rests with cultural policymakers, broadcasters, and the public. Dubbing requires investment: trained actors, quality studios, and professional translators. Yet, for many, this is a price worth paying to safeguard Azerbaijan’s linguistic sovereignty.
As Turkish productions continue to capture millions of Azerbaijani viewers, the challenge is clear—will Azerbaijan watch them in the language of a neighbor, or hear them in the voice of its own identity?
