Istanbul was, is, and always will be a multinational, multicultural paradise, just like all the other great imperial cities of the world. Those who can't adapt can go back to their monolithic villages.
Here is the situation for Turks during multicultural Ottoman era;
"When you heard the word “Turk,” what came to mind was a village that smelled of manure. After all, it meant “crude” and “wild.” An Arab was called an Arab, an Albanian an Albanian, a Greek a Greek, a Kurd a Kurd, and a Turk an Ottoman. The word “homeland” was already forbidden among the Islamic ummah and in the Ottoman Empire. There was no such sacred concept. We were subjects of the Sultan. The oath was renewed at every opportunity. They would shout, “Long live the Sultan!” Among them, there was as much admiration for foreigners as there was shame in being Turkish. After all, the chasm between them was much more evident to them. While the Greek neighborhoods glowed brightly at night, the Turkish neighborhoods—with their wooden structures, dampness, and filth—were plunged into darkness. Turks would gaze at these neighborhoods with envy even from childhood. The Greeks dressed well and lived well. The Turkish neighborhoods lived in fear of a handful of thugs. These thugs, who extorted money from shopkeepers, were kept in the mansions of certain wealthy families. Since police officers and commissioners received such meager salaries, they, too, had turned into bribe-takers and informants. Since those who left early for work sometimes set out without money to avoid being robbed, at one point the thieves announced that they would stab anyone found without at least 20 kuruş on them, and they posted this notice on the walls. Türk’s options were limited: porters or soldiers; becoming a househusband was a distant dream.
So extreme was this distorted Westernization that, for most male figures, having a foreign mistress was an absolute must—by all means! A foreign language, especially French, was spoken, and one had to prove one’s proficiency in every possible way. One had to somehow make one’s way to Beyoğlu. Most of the shops there wouldn’t even deign to respond to anyone who didn’t speak Turkish. Some of the side streets were named in French, and all the street signs were written in French. The signs on shops and stores were in French. However, beneath some of them, the Turkish names were written in small letters, almost as if it were a favor. On the railroads and trams, the senior officials were foreigners, while the junior ones were Greek or Armenian; and on the other railroads of Rumelia, not a single Turk could be found serving as stationmaster, supervisor, or conductor—such positions were never entrusted to them. The non-Turkish officials, meanwhile, spared no form of harassment or insult toward Turkish passengers. Of course, the official language on the railroads was French as well. When the train departed, the conductors would shout “conspirator” or “fanatic.” Consequently, speaking French and demonstrating that one was not Turkish was extremely important for social status. As you can see, Hamid’s power and authority extended only to the poor Turks in Istanbul. Those who were Turkish but not part of this Western-leaning crowd had to seek refuge in places like pera palas to escape Abdulhamid.
After all, neither the Ottoman police nor the secret agents could enter the Pera Palas or the Anatolian Railway Administration building. In fact, if you were a Greek national, you enjoyed immunity even in a Greek tavern. The police and judicial systems for foreigners were handled by the consulates. After all, it was impossible for any Turkish person with even a shred of common sense not to go mad under these conditions. Indeed, they were treated as madmen and mocked as “Turkists.” To be a “Turkist” meant to destroy the state. It was madness. Utopian!" -Falih Rıfkı Atay
Turks lived under poverty while rums,kurds and armenians flourished this is the multicultural hell you are dreaming of!