Jean-Paul Marthoz: Commercial interference in the European media

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_single_image image=”81193″ img_size=”full” alignment=”center”][vc_column_text]Commercial pressures on the media? Anti-establishment critics have a ready-made answer: of course, journalists are hostage to the whims of corporate owners, advertisers and sponsors. Of course, they cannot independently cover issues which these powers consider “inconvenient”. Actually such suspicion is widely shared: In France, according to the 2017 La Croix barometer on media credibility, 58% of public opinion consider that journalists “are not really able to resist pressures from financial interests”.

The issue is not new. In 1944 when he founded the French “newspaper of record”, Le Monde, Hubert Beuve-Méry fought to guarantee its independence from political parties but also from what he called “the wall of money”. “Freedom of the press belongs to the one who owns one”, New Yorker media critic A.J. Liebling famously said. However, “while media academics have long looked at the question of commercial pressure, ownership (…) in shaping coverage”, writes Anya Schiffrin in a 2017 CIMA report on “captured media” press freedom groups’ focus had been mostly on the governments’ responsibilities and on criminal non-state actors.

In June 2016 Reporters Without Boarders made a splash with its report on oligarchs in the media. Proprietors’ interventions may have indeed a very negative impact on journalism’s proclaimed commitment to report the news without fear or favour. Pressures are particularly acute when the media are owned by conglomerates who dabble in other economic sectors. In France, for instance, a military aircraft manufacturer (Dassault), the luxury industry leader (LVMH), telecoms giants (SFR, Free), a powerful public works and telecoms company (Bouygues) directly own key media companies.

Ownership provides a powerful lever to influence media contents. Cases of direct intervention or of journalists’ self-censorship are not exceptional, even if they are often difficult to prove. In France, Vincent Bolloré, owner, among others, of TV channel Canal+, has been regularly accused of using his powers to determine content. It led the French Senate’s culture commission to invite him to a hearing in June 2016, but he firmly denied all allegations of censorship.

In other European countries, the landscape is much clearer. In Turkey, during the June 2013 Gezi Park events, major TV stations failed to report police repression live. They chose instead to broadcast animal documentaries, for which they were rewarded with the nickname of “penguin media”. In fact, they turned into “proxy censors” for Erdogan’s government who had the power to determine their economic fate by rewarding them -or not- with public works contracts or financial favors. The worst of the worst flourishes in some former communist eastern European countries where major media outlets have been snatched by oligarchs allied with political parties or even, allegedly, with criminal organisations.

Big companies may be ruthless. Advertising budgets can be cut when a media covers “inconvenient news”. In November 2017, according to satirical weekly Le Canard enchainé, Bernard Arnault, the boss of LVMH (luxury products, owner of Le Parisien and Les Echos), canceled his advertising budget in Le Monde until the end of the year after his name appeared in the Paradise Papers global investigation, which named people who had offshore accounts in tax havens. LVMH denied it was cutting all advertising in the paper, adding that it was currently “reflecting on its advertisement policy in classical media”.

The unraveling of the legacy media’s business model has increased their vulnerability to outside pressures. Advertising money is shrinking, therefore increasing the temptation to dismantle what was presented as an impassable wall between “church and state”. Differences between advertising and the news are also being diluted into ambiguous advertorials, sponsored content and “native advertising”.  

Such pressures however are not automatic. “Suffering pressures does not mean ceding to them”, says Hervé Béroud, director general of leading all-news TV channel BFMTV. Due to the way journalism actually works, the freedom to report, even against the owners’ interests, cannot be systematically crushed. In fact, as a former editor in chief of Belgian newspapers and magazines I was confronted with radically different forms of “advice” from my successive owners. While some were very protective of editorial independence others were blunter and ready to compromise with advertisers’ “wishes”. The existence of journalists’ societies, co-owners of the so-called “ethical capital” of the paper, provided some protection, but much was left to individual wrestling between the editor and the proprietor.

At the end, this issue comes down to defining who “owns freedom of information”. In 1993 the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe stated that “the owner of the right is the citizen, who also has the related right to demand that the information supplied by journalists be conveyed truthfully, in the case of news, and honestly, in the case of opinions, without outside interference by either the public authorities or the private sector”. A far cry from A.J. Liebling’s sentence…[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Survey: How free is our press?” use_theme_fonts=”yes” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fwww.indexoncensorship.org%2F2017%2F12%2Fsurvey-free-press%2F|title:Take%20our%20survey||”][vc_separator color=”black”][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/4″][vc_icon icon_fontawesome=”fa fa-pencil-square-o” color=”black” background_style=”rounded” size=”xl” align=”right”][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”3/4″][vc_column_text]

Are you a working journalist? Do you want to see better protections and freedoms for reporters?

This survey aims to take a snapshot of how financial pressures are affecting news reporting. The openMedia project will use this information to analyse how money shapes what gets reported – and what doesn’t – and to advocate for better protections and freedoms for journalists who have important stories to tell.

More information[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_separator color=”black”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Don’t lose your voice. Stay informed.” use_theme_fonts=”yes”][vc_separator color=”black”][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][vc_column_text]Index on Censorship is a nonprofit that campaigns for and defends free expression worldwide. We publish work by censored writers and artists, promote debate, and monitor threats to free speech. We believe that everyone should be free to express themselves without fear of harm or persecution – no matter what their views.

Join our mailing list (or follow us on Twitter or Facebook) and we’ll send you our weekly newsletter about our activities defending free speech. We won’t share your personal information with anyone outside Index.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width=”1/2″][gravityform id=”20″ title=”false” description=”false” ajax=”false”][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_separator color=”black”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”12″ style=”load-more” items_per_page=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1513691969537-ee852610-8cb0-8″ taxonomies=”8996″][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Contents: What price protest?

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”With contributions from Ariel Dorfman, Robert McCrum, Micah White and Anuradha Roy, as well as interviews with Richard Ratcliffe, Emmanuel Laurentin, Floyd Abrams and Buscarita Roa”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]

In homage to the 50th anniversary of 1968, the year the world took to the streets, the winter issue of Index on Censorship magazine looks at all aspects related to protest.

We explore the most noteworthy and effective protests of the past, as journalist and author Robert McCrum returns to Prague; we cast light on the most interesting and effective protests now, from India and South Korea through to South Africa and Hungary, via Argentina and its protesting grandmothers; we look at why protest still matters, including an interview with Richard Ratcliffe, husband of imprisoned mother Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe; and finally we look to the future of protest in an article from Occupy co-founder Micah White.

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In some of pieces we see how the spirit of ’68 directly lives on. In France, for example, leading journalist historian Emmanuel Laurentin tells Sally Gimson that the young people protesting in ‘68 have been very influential in France since, and that the country holds its revolutionary past dear.

But it’s not all positive. We reveal new research that shows an increase in threats against journalists covering protests, as well as looking at how cities across England are selling off land to private owners and in so doing compromising our basic democratic rights. Articles from Turkey, Egypt and Latin America highlight the increasing dangers attached to going out into the streets and who is still taking the risk.

Outside the special report, the lawyer who represented the New York Times in the Pentagon Papers talks about the constitutional crisis affecting the USA today. And on a different note, we look at how musicians are being silenced in Catalan, whilst elsewhere people are being made to sing, the national anthem in this instance.  

Finally, do not miss our exclusive short story from award-winning writer Ariel Dorfman. It features Shakespeare, Cervantes and spies, the perfect trio for a work of fiction.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Special report: What price protest?”][vc_column_text]

Toxic environment, by Kaya Genç: Five years after Gezi Park, people in Turkey have given up on public space and retreated online

Is protesting pointless? by Micah White: One of the co-founders of Occupy proposes a novel way for protest to remain relevant

Square bashing, by Sally Gimson: English cities are giving away basic democratic rights when they sell off management of central streets, our report shows

Demonstration by design, by Danyaal Yasin: Banners are so 1968 as these new protests show the 2017 look is extremely creative

Stripsearch, by Martin Rowson: The world’s dictators have taken to the streets. What do they really, really want?

Meeting the oldest protesters in town, by Lucia He: An interview with one of Argentina’s famous grandmothers about decades of campaigning

Under a cloud, by Duncan Tucker: Tear gas, violence and new laws are all being used to frighten Latin American protesters into giving up

Green light from the Blue House? by Steven Borowiec: He came to power arguing he could protect protest, but is South Korea’s new president doing what he promised?

Return to the streets, by Raymond Joseph: Anti-apartheid demonstrators thought they had hung up their placards, but now they are back on protests

China’s middle class rebellion, by Robert Foyle Hunwick: There are cracks in the Chinese dream, and now the  middle class is getting angry

“I see you”, by Rachael Jolley: The husband of imprisoned mother Nazanin Zaghari-Ratcliffe talks to Index about why protest matters

Having the last laugh, by Csabi Tasi and Jemimah Steinfeld: Meet the party injecting humour into Hungarian politics and challenging the status quo

1968 and all that, by Sally Gimson: One of France’s leading journalistic historians discusses the new style of French protest

Wrongs threatening our rights, by Raj Chadda: A lawyer advises on increasing conditions being imposed on protests by UK police

Women walk out, by Shilpa Phadke and Anuradha Roy: Tired of being harassed and treated as second class citizens, Indian women are taking to the streets

It’s Spring again, by Robert McCrum: Fifty years after the Prague Spring, the author and journalist visits to ask whether it is still remembered. Also Pavel Theiner reflects on 1968

Mapping attacks, by Ryan McChrystal: Index reveals new research showing a rise in the dangers journalists face covering protests in Europe

“There was no outrage”, by Wael Eskandar: An Egyptian journalist on witnessing the dangers – and death – of protest in his country

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Column”][vc_column_text]

Global view, by Jodie Ginsberg: We need to champion free speech for all or risk the far-right controlling the conversation

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”In focus”][vc_column_text]

They can’t stop the music, by Silvia Nortes and Dominic Hinde: Artistic freedom in the run-up to the referendums in Scotland and Catalonia are compared. Catalonia loses

Book fairs and their freedoms, by Dominic Hinde, Ola Larsmo, Tobias Voss and Jean-Paul Marthoz: Controversies at Frankfurt and Gothenburg book fairs are leading to arguments about the freedom to speak and appear at these events

First Amendment comes under fire, by Jan Fox: An interview with the lawyer who represented the New York Times in the Pentagon Papers case on the constitutional crisis hitting the USA today

Making the cut, by Wana Udobang: One of Nollywood’s leading directors on what it’s like working in the second biggest film industry in the world

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Culture”][vc_column_text]

Spying for Shakespeare: An interview by Rachael Jolley with playwright Ariel Dorfman and introduction to his new short story, Saving Will and Miguel, with themes of Shakespeare, Cervantes and spies. This story for Index from the award-winning writer has it all

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Column”][vc_column_text]

Index around the world, by Danyaal Yasin: We’ve live broadcast an event and become UK partner on Banned Books Week, just two recent Index highlights

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Endnote”][vc_column_text]

Blurred lines, by Jemimah Steinfeld: National anthems are back in fashion. Why and where are people being forced to sing against their will?

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row content_placement=”top”][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_custom_heading text=”What price protest?” font_container=”tag:p|font_size:24|text_align:left” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fwww.indexoncensorship.org%2F2017%2F12%2Fwhat-price-protest%2F%20|||”][vc_column_text]Through a range of in-depth reporting, interviews and illustrations, the summer 2017 issue of Index on Censorship magazine explores the 50th anniversary of 1968, the year the world took to the streets, to look at all aspects related to protest.

With: Micah White, Robert McCrum, Ariel Dorfman, Anuradha Roy and more.[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″][vc_single_image image=”96747″ img_size=”medium” alignment=”center” onclick=”custom_link” link=”https://www.indexoncensorship.org/2017/12/what-price-protest/”][/vc_column][vc_column width=”1/3″ css=”.vc_custom_1481888488328{padding-bottom: 50px !important;}”][vc_custom_heading text=”Subscribe” font_container=”tag:p|font_size:24|text_align:left” link=”url:https%3A%2F%2Fwww.indexoncensorship.org%2Fsubscribe%2F|||”][vc_column_text]In print, online. In your mailbox, on your iPad.

Subscription options from £18 or just £1.49 in the App Store for a digital issue.

Every subscriber helps support Index on Censorship’s projects around the world.

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Osman Kavala’s arrest: A new low in Turkey’s descent

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Osman Kavala. Credit: Anadolu Kültür

Osman Kavala. Credit: Anadolu Kültür

On 19 October, when police officers detained Osman Kavala, a left-wing Turkish human rights activist and businessman who funds a variety of cultural and civil society activities, I was set to catch a plane en route to Armenia to attend a conference. The news was extremely bothersome as I, having held a civil society job for two years, knew all too well what his detention entailed. As Andrew Finkel, an executive of the Independent Platform for Journalism (P24) commented, his detention and later arrest was “a chilling signal to those working in the civil society community”.

I never knew Kavala personally, but always respected him for allowing civil society organisations to use his centrally-located Cezayir Restaurant for events and gatherings, usually at a minimal charge. I tried not to think about what I understood to be a new low in Turkey’s recent descent into authoritarianism and had managed to completely forget about it by the time I had reached the beautiful mountain resort of Arghevan. Yet my fellow conference attendees were quick to remind me of what had happened at home earlier in the day. Several people greeted me saying they had heard the news; that they were extremely concerned about their friend Osman.  “He has more friends in Armenia than he has in Turkey,” Armen Ohanyan, an Armenian writer, told me.

This, of course, owes to Kavala’s commitment to Turkish-Armenian reconciliation. He has been committed to improving the troubled relations between the two neighbours stemming from a number of factors, but mainly from Turkey’s unwillingness to recognise the Armenian Genocide. However, repairing ties was not the only area where Kavala worked. Anadolu Kültür, a foundation he established, has carried out many cultural projects including restoration of minority heritage. He has also been an active supporter of children’s, women’s and LGBT rights. The foundation was recently involved in a project for integrating Syrian refugees into Turkish society.

Dozens of articles from his friends followed his arrest and from them we learn that, unlike most of Turkey’s elite, this wealthy businessman not only talked about the most problematic affairs of his country but actively put time and effort into resolving them. He remained committed to pursuing that goal until it was too much for the government. Perhaps he was not a saint or some modern-day sage who devoted his life to others, but he was a good man; a “good citizen” as the son-in-law of a general, who was imprisoned in a past crackdown led by prosecutors who were part of the Fethullah Gülen network which today the Turkish government accuses of being behind the 2016 coup attempt, called him.  

Ironically, Kavala was arrested two weeks after his detention by an Istanbul court on the basis of a prosecutor’s allegation that he was linked with the “parallel structure” FETÖ/PDY — or the Fethullahist Terrorist Organisation — the name Turkish authorities give to Gülen network.

The prosecution accuses Kavala of “attempting to overthrow the government” by supporting Turkey’s Gezi Park protests — massive peaceful anti-government demonstrations that took place in all provinces across the country four years ago. His arrest was not a surprise and president Erdogan called Kavala an “agent” and the “Soros of Turkey” in the few hours following his initial detention.

In a statement he made while in prison on 6 November 2017, Kavala said it was Erdogan’s statements that led to his arrest. “My arrest is part of the government’s attack on all opposition,” he told a visiting deputy.

The charges against him are bogus, as Sedat Ergin, the former editor-in-chief of the Hürriyet daily, explained at length in a column which was translated into English. On 9 November, prominent European diplomats and politicians, including Carl Bildt, Claus Offe and others, wrote to the Financial Times, of the ridiculousness of the charges against him.

Whether there will be an unexpected yet helpful twist in the course of his proceedings as was the case of the eight human rights defenders who were released conditionally have yet to be seen. However, his treatment so far clearly shows that darker times are ahead for civil society.

On 8 November the Checks and Balances Network (DDA), an umbrella network for more than 100 civil society organisations, made a timid statement denouncing reports labeling it as a supporter of foreign agents, following news stories in the pro-government media which stated that the National Endowment for Democracy (NED) funded network is an arm of the CIA. Other civil society organisations that are involved in non-political activities are also extremely concerned.

What makes Kavala’s arrest so pervasive is that it sends the message that the government has not been satisfied by the level of the crackdown it has already imposed on civil society. A total of 1,125 associations and 41 foundations were shut down under cabinet decrees since the declaration of the post-coup attempt state of emergency. Civil society leaders, who might have spoken out on Kavala’s arrest or not, now understand that Erdoğan may resort to Putin-like measures, banning civil society activities entirely and labelling its representatives as “foreign agents”.

That fear echoed in the initial remarks of Kavala’s academic and activist wife Ayşe Buğra, who said in a statement she made after her husband’s arrest: ““With the arrest ruling we have not only lost Osman Kavala’s freedom but at the same time our hopes in democracy, peace and the rule of law.”[/vc_column_text][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row][vc_column][vc_basic_grid post_type=”post” max_items=”4″ element_width=”6″ grid_id=”vc_gid:1510241893657-0016a8b6-b819-2″ taxonomies=”7355″][/vc_column][/vc_row]

Turkey: The wife of imprisoned journalist Murat Aksoy tells of his ordeal

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Journalist Murat Aksoy has been detained since his first arrest on 3 September 2016. Above, Aksoy with his wife Şehriban, daughter Zehra Duru and son Ali Emre.

Journalist Murat Aksoy has been detained since his first arrest on 3 September 2016. Above, Aksoy with his wife Şehriban, daughter Zehra Duru and son Ali Emre.

Journalist Murat Aksoy was arrested twice during the government’s investigations into Turkey’s failed coup of 15 July.

On 6 June, prosecutors filed an indictment seeking two life sentences for Aksoy and 12 other defendants.

His first arrest was on 3 September 2016 on suspicion of being involved with the Fethullah Gülen network — an Islamist group allegedly behind the attempted coup, officially called the Fethullahist Terrorist Organisation (FETÖ) by the regime.

A court ordered Aksoy released on 31 March pending trial, but before he even left Silivri Prison he was detained again along with 13 others, this time on charges of “attempting to overthrow the government”.

The charges are baffling, according to his wife of 17 years, Şehriban Aksoy. “When the headscarf was banned, he always wrote articles against the ban. We are speaking of a man who stated at every opportunity that the state doesn’t have the right to interfere in anyone’s outfit.”

Except for a brief period at the Millet newspaper, Aksoy did not work at any news organisations believed to be affiliated with the Gülen group — something that is now considered a crime. He wasn’t even religious, according to Şehriban.

“Our families are from Tunceli, we are Alevi,” his wife says, referring to a religious minority group in Turkey, whose practices and beliefs often fall outside the scope of Islam, although there are those who argue that it is part of the faith. “Being an Alevi, he defended people’s right to wear the headscarf; their freedom. This [imprisonment] has happened to someone defending [this right]. He hasn’t written a single line in his entire life praising FETÖ.”

He has worked for many outlets. When they conducted the first wave of the post-coup arrests, he hosted a radio programme on YÖN FM, a pro-Republican People’s Party (CHP) radio station. A government minister once featured on his programme. He also worked for eight years at Yeni Şafak, a pro-government daily.

At the time of this dismissal, the couple’s son Ali Emre had just been born. “We needed an income. That’s why he agreed to write for Millet when the newspaper made an offer,” Şehriban said. The outlet was shuttered under the first cabinet decree issued under Turkey’s state of emergency rule, which was introduced after the coup attempt.

A life of journalism

Aksoy was born in 1968 in Erzincan, although his birth year on his ID card is 1972. It is a common practice in rural Turkey for children to sometimes be officially registered a few years after their actual birth.

According to his wife and many others who know him, Aksoy is a sentimental and emotional man who easily gets teary-eyed. This may be because of his background, Şehriban says. When Aksoy was young, his family moved to Istanbul where his father owned a grocery store. When he was in the first grade, his mother died after a long illness. With his father busy working, Aksoy was often left in the care of his father’s sister-in-law.

The family lived in Okmeydanı, a predominantly Alevi neighbourhood in Istanbul. This is where Aksoy and Şehriban met as children. “We both lived on the street where Berkin was shot,” Şehriban remembers, referring to Berkin Elvan, a 14-year-old boy who was injured during the Gezi protests when a police officer aimed a gas canister at his head. Elvan died following 269 days in a coma.

Aksoy attended the Kabataş High School in Istanbul. After graduation, he studied business management at Erciyes University in Kayseri, although he never worked in business. Shortly after graduating from the university in the early 1990s, he worked briefly for the newspaper Radikal, and then at various civil society organisations. During his time at the Islamist Yeni Şafak, where “he never hid his true identity [as an Alevi],” according to his wife.

Days filled with work and kids

Aksoy was fired by Yeni Şafak in the constrained atmosphere in the months after the anti-government Gezi Park protests of 2013. In the columns he wrote at the time, Aksoy had criticised the government’s brutal approach toward peaceful protesters. “They first cut his column down to fewer days. Then they slowly drove him away just the way they slowly drove us away from Silivri Prison that night,” his wife says.

He was finally terminated by the paper in early January 2014 when he expressed an opinion about the government’s handling of a political crisis following a December 2013 corruption scandal in which four ministers and members of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s family were implicated.

After he left Yeni Şafak, Aksoy worked exclusively from home. He would get up at around 7am, read the newspapers and take notes while having breakfast, and then send his daughter to school. He later worked in his study, writing articles or preparing for television programmes where he often appeared as a commentator. He would go grocery shopping or go on walks with his wife. When his daughter got home from school, Aksoy usually helped her with her homework. 

In addition to writing for various newspapers, Aksoy worked as a consultant for the Republican People’s Party (CHP) and he was on the parliament payroll. This was an important means of financial support for the family, but it was cut off after his arrest by the parliament administration. Şehriban, who has to take care of two small children, doesn’t have a job.

The case against Murat Aksoy

Although Aksoy was arrested for aiding FETÖ through his work, his accusers “can’t cite a single article which serves this alleged purpose,” says Şehriban.

He is being represented by a prominent human rights lawyer, Yaman Akdeniz, who was nominated for a 2015 Freedom of Expression Award for his work defending online rights. Aksoy was also accused of having prior knowledge of the coup plot because he had warned viewers in a program on pro-CHP Halk TV that there were rumours of a coup preparation.

The night when Şehriban and her family waited for Aksoy’s release in vain has been a major trauma for the family. “It took me a full week to recover. You have these crazy thoughts, you say to yourself ‘let this end now’. It was like a nightmare,” she says. “While they were kept in police custody for 15 days in between their release and second arrest, I thought at least we could talk on the phone every two weeks when he was in prison, but they don’t let you do that in detention.”

For many of the families caught up in the coup trials, the hardest part is managing the feelings of their children. Aksoy and Şehriban have two, a son and a daughter: Ali Emre is two-years-old and Zehra Duru is 10.

Ali Emre’s second birthday took place about a month after her father was arrested. “He has been growing more quickly after his father’s arrest. He sometimes takes his father’s photograph to bed with him and kisses is,” Şehriban says. “The children miss their father immensely. I take them to see their father once a month during open visits.”

Aksoy also misses his children. “The last time we visited, Ali Emre bit his ear, but his father didn’t notice; he was so thrilled to be holding his son. I gave him a tissue, and he asked me why. He had no idea his ear was bleeding,” his wife says.

For the first few months of Aksoy’s imprisonment, the family told Duru that her dad had gone to a writers’ camp to work on a report with fellow writers. Into the fourth month, they had an honest conversation with her. “I explained to her that her father is a good man and he is in prison because of a thought crime. Now she knows, she says that her father is in prison because he defended what’s right,” Şehriban says.

The family was lucky in comparison with many others who were imprisoned in the coup-related trials: Duru’s friends at school didn’t stop talking to her.

The night when her father wasn’t released despite the court ruling was among the hardest moments for the little girl. “Duru wanted to drive with me to prison to pick him up. I convinced her to stay at home, and I said ‘your father will be here when you wake up in the morning’. I promised her,” Şehriban says. “The next morning, she woke up and started going into every room inside the house, looking for her father. It was perhaps more difficult than when he was arrested for the first time. Then she started yelling at me: ‘You are a liar, you lie!’ Our relationship was horrible for an entire month.”

Şehriban is thankful her husband isn’t mistreated in prison, but quickly adds that he and his fellow inmates don’t trust prison food. At meal times, they buy ready-made soup mixes and canned food from the prison cafeteria.

Not everything has been nightmarish through the ordeal. Opposition politicians have been supportive. CHP leader Kemal Kılıçdaroğlu publicly said of Aksoy: “I am as certain that he [is not related to any terror groups] as I am certain of myself.”

“But when they were arrested for the second time, I knew that this was something else. They couldn’t satisfy their wrath. They should just tell us that he is in prison because of his critical views. They did the same thing to Sözcü,” his wife says, referring to recent operations where two employees of the newspaper, which is staunchly secular and also outspokenly anti-government, were arrested on “FETÖ” related charges.

Sunlight in the doctor’s office

Although Aksoy was never subject to any physical abuse, he has had difficulty coping with being in prison. “He cried a lot,” remembers Şehriban. 

Like most other journalists imprisoned in the coup investigation, Aksoy cannot see the other journalists kept at Silivri Section-9. He shares a cell with singer-turned-journalist Atilla Taş and journalist Gökçe Fırat Çulhaoğlu, and those are the only two people whom he can have conversations with. They are allowed in the open-air briefly in very tiny courtyards, which are covered by wired fences all around, making it impossible to get a full view of the sky.

Aksoy has started seeing the prison psychiatrist. He finds the sessions helpful, but what he enjoys most is visiting the doctor’s office. As Şehriban explains: “You get to see a different scenery. For example, there is an artificial plant in the room, which makes him really happy. There are medicine cabinets; files with the names of his fellow journalists on them. Also, at the doctor’s office, he says gets a lot of sunlight. He says he deliberately places his chair in the sun; that he regrets those days when he never once even looked up in the sky when he was free.”[/vc_column_text][vc_column_text]


Turkey Uncensored is an Index on Censorship project to publish a series of articles from censored Turkish writers, artists and translators.

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