3 Apr 2014 | News and features, Politics and Society, Turkey
(Image: Mukets/Shutterstock)
Imagine you wake up one day, start your day as usual; you go on the tube with the Metro at hand and read the news on your way to work. Today, however, you learn that the Serious Fraud Office and Metropolitan Police have detained 47 people, including officials from the Department for Communities and Local Government, the Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs and the Westminster City Council, as well as the sons of four British ministers. They were all implicated together with real estate developers and the general manager of Bank of England and an Iranian businessman. Moreover, the minister of state for Europe became a potential suspect of bribery related to the Iranian businessman’s dealings in the country. The police confiscated some £10.5 million as money used for bribery during the investigation.
After all that you’ve learned, you start believing that there will be a great change in Britain. Everyone is excited to tell each other the new developments and they start waiting. Waiting…Waiting… After you witness the shoe boxes filled with millions of pounds found next to the money counters and money safes in the houses of the sons of the ministers and the general manager of Bank of England. And after the images of those shoe boxes and money safes start filling social media pages, and people all around Britain start leaving shoe boxes in front of the Bank of England, you start thinking that humour is the only way for the people to maintain their mental health. On social media, only this corruption and of course the shoe boxes, are discussed. The shoe box becomes a dangerous weapon, and when those carrying empty shoe boxes or those who leave them on the street or even those who sell them are arrested, you realise that for Britain, the shoe boxes are much more dangerous than a bribery scandal. For a moment, you wonder if there are any empty shoe boxes at your home, you hesitate to share it with anyone. Even if what’s been happening surprises you, you try to keep your cool. After all, as a nation you are known for your nonchalant attitude.
On 21 December, in total 91 people were detained in the investigation; 24 of them were arrested. You turn on Sky News with curiosity, and you hear that the investigation is part of a so called parallel government coup d’état planned by foreign powers trying to hinder Britain’s developing economy. You find it a little weird that the prosecutor leading this investigation, who is now accused by the government of planning a coup is the same one Prime Minister called a “hero” a few years back. But you don’t lose your resolve… You want to understand what is really happening.
Several newspapers report that a new investigation was expected on 25 December, possibly involving the prime minister’s sons, as well as certain Al- Qaeda affiliates from Saudi Arabia. The police officers in Scotland Yard, newly appointed by the government just a few days before, refuse to carry out the orders from this new investigation’s prosecutor. Similarly, the director of public prosecutions does not approve this new operation either. The man originally behind this second investigation, the prosecutor, is dismissed in the following hours of the same day and immediately a new one is assigned.
It was understood that a second wave of arrests was planned according to this second investigation, and a list was leaked to the press. At midnight on 7 January, a government decree was announced, which removed 350 police officers from their positions, including the chiefs of the units dealing with financial crimes, smuggling and organised crime. The influential leader of a social movement described these investigations as a purge of the country. The prime minister described the corruption investigation as a “judicial coup by the parallel government” by those jealous of his success — namely the secretive leader, backed by foreigners.
Since the beginning of the investigations, the Conservative Party government has been trying to exile both the police forces and the responsible prosecutors, thought to be related to the investigations. Unfortunately, those policemen and the prosecutors who replaced the previous “parallel government” policemen and prosecutors, were found to be also members of the parallel government by those in power. Then, they levelled accusations at these new officials and exiled them as well.
The Home Office and the Ministry of Justice changed the legal judgement regulations during the investigation period. The prime minister blamed the investigation on an international conspiracy and vowed revenge on the aforementioned group; here had been hostility between the prime minister and its leader. The prime minister also threatened the US ambassador to the UK with expulsion, because of his critical comments.
The home secretary and the chancellor of the exchequer, both of whose sons were arrested in the corruption operation, resigned together on the morning of the 25 December. That same afternoon, the secretary of state for environment, food and rural affairs resigned from office and as a member of parliament. Four hundred and fifty policemen in the specialist crimes and operations department were exiled and journalists were banned from entering New Scotland Yard.
Three members of parliament resigned from the Conservative Party on 26 December because of the ongoing scandal. These three ex-members of the Conservative Party were each separately under investigation by the party’s disciplinary committee, accused of opposing the party’s own regulations. They all resigned before the committee reached a verdict.
To understand what’s happening, you now constantly follow social media. However, everything’s happening so fast and it’s so incomprehensible that you have to ask yourself: is this real? You calmly wait, expecting the resignation of the government. In fact, during this wait, you read Beckett’s “Waiting for Godot” once again. It feels as though nothing’s happening in Britain, the news only written about on social media pages seems like it’s about a different country. When you get on the tube, you see that those who don’t use social media are clueless, and some who are aware believe that the prime minister has been set up despite all the evidence. It makes you wonder whether it’s the train moving really fast, as if it’s disappearing, or your mental health.
A voice recording said to be of a telephone conversation between the prime minister and his son, is at the centre of the latest political storm. In the conversation, the pair allegedly discusses how to hide large sums of money on the day the police raided houses as part of the corruption inquiry into the prime minister’s government.
Of course, you immediately listen to the recording and don’t know what’s worse — what is being discussed or the pathetic state the prime minister’s son is in. Even though a report from a US sound company was used to try and prove that the recordings were fake, the same company, whose name was revealed later, claimed that they prepared no such report. Still, even though the money discussed is billions of dollars, you are overcome with grief and overwhelmed by the sound of the prime minister’s son’s voice as he says “daddy”…
You think this is the final straw. After this, the government will definitely resign. But there is no movement. It’s as if Beckett has taken control, writing the fate of Britain but this time it’s called “Waiting for Resignation.” We all wait. While waiting, we feel sorry for the Prime Minister’s son. After the empty shoe boxes, you understand how dangerous the word “daddy” can be.
During all this, the fact that you are slowly losing your cool results in an identity crisis. You realise your talent for handling all situations with edgy, British humour is inadequate, which bothers you. But then you see the jokes on Facebook and Twitter, you see the cartoons depicting the situation and you feel relief that your country’s talent for humour has exponentially grown over the course of this huge scandal.
After the release of the first recording, you no longer have time to stop by at a pub for a drink, go to a football game or anything else… You feel like you’re in the middle of a ping-pong game between the new recordings and the perception the government is trying to impose against them. When you read tweets that say “can you hold the agenda for two minutes, I have to use the bathroom” a smile creeps up from your demoralised heart and you realise it’s right.
After the tapes, the world doesn’t end, the government doesn’t resign, the parliamentary questions asked by the opposition are left unanswered in parliament, where the attempts at projecting an illusion of normalcy fails; iPads and punches flying, adding some liveliness.
Suddenly you realise that most Brits are addicted to the prime minister’s tapes. The anxiety surrounding the country when there is no tape that day featuring the prime minister or the ministers worries you.
In the meantime, when you listen to a recording of a conversation between the prime minister and someone from Sky News, you finally believe that this is it. Because you learn that the prime minister personally interferes with the news. Soon after, you find out that the prime minister calls not just Sky News but also Channel 4 and ITV to scold the directors of these media outlets. It doesn’t surprise you to learn the next day that newspapers run the headlines by him, before publishing anything. You don’t know what’s more shocking, the talent of the prime minister or the surrender of the media. You are constantly conflicted because even after all this, there is nothing. When the prime minister makes an announcement saying “of course I’ll interfere” you begin doubting yourself. You think that maybe you and people like you are the weird ones… You seriously start questioning what is normal and not.
But the news cycle doesn’t give you any time to continue doubting yourself. So you think, maybe you should just fly to the North Pole for a while. Maybe if you get away far enough, you can see things more clearly but you can’t. Because now the ping-pong game is over and you are living life on the back of a galloping horse… So nauseating.
Now, social media channels determine the order of the day so the prime minister has to find a way to control it. It’s not surprising that a new internet law is prepared so quickly. You are still so sure that in a democratic country like the United Kingdom, such a controversial law — allowing the government to shut down any internet site without the approval of a court — would never pass in parliament. You can’t imagine it any other way. If it does, you want to believe the Queen would use her power to veto it. However, you are disappointed once again. The law is passed and approved. The Queen makes a statement: “I know that some clauses in this bill are against the law, but I believe the parliament will amend those in time.” In order to make sure your ears aren’t deceiving you, that you understand what’s been said, you listen to the statement over and over again. When you finally realise that you understood right the first time, you are reminded of the “Matrix” movie and think “is someone making everyone take the blue pill?” If you take the blue pill, you believe the illusion, anything that’s absurd becomes normal; if you take the red pill you will think all that was normal is actually absurd…
You secretly question your friends in the pharmaceutical business while you still wait for something to happen… Slowly you start having headaches, because you can’t sleep anymore. You are getting annoyed at listening to yet another fury-induced berating of the crowd by the prime minister. Always angry, always provocative… On the other hand you still wonder “is this the side effect of the blue pill?”
While you try to maintain a healthy mind, the prime minister, once again furious, yells out: “Enough with this Twitter, I will ban all of it” and you think “no way!” But it has been months since you actually saw that line you thought wouldn’t be crossed because there was “no way…”
You start missing the tapes one by one, because there is no way you can keep up, even if the days had more hours. After showering that morning, you reluctantly open your computer to peruse Twitter; you are met with the message: “The access to the site you are trying to open has been blocked.” Now you have to learn the new jargon, understand what DNS is and download new applications, like you have the time. You find it normal that the number of users in the UK increase after the Twitter ban. After you read the tweet by the Queen saying “I hope the ban will be lifted soon” your suspicions are confirmed: everyone took the blue pill.
When the reactions to the ban pour in from within the UK and outside, the prime minister becomes bolder and claims: “The whole world will see how strong we are. We brought Twitter to its knees.” You just don’t understand. Understanding, comprehending, thinking and analysing… Your brain short circuits from all the pressure and all you can do is just laugh.
You are not surprised that YouTube is also banned. There are no longer any straws left, the camel’s back has been broken for months… There is no more waiting… You rip the pages of “Waiting for Godot.” Whoever it may be, you cannot explain away the power-hungry. You cannot blame the blue pill anymore. You feel exhausted and empty.
You understand how far a mind so warped can go for power, and as a result of ever growing anger. This time you focus on the elections, five days away. This time you know you will definitely vote. Your mind is divided. One side says “this is really the end. The Prime Minister will not stay in power after this. His votes will decrease this time.” The other side starts “if he gets more than 40 % of the vote…” You don’t even want to think about it. This election is very important for the future of the whole country… When you go on Twitter, you see “this is not just an election it’s an IQ test” and all you can do is smile.
After months of such tension, what do you feel when you see that the prime minister’s party has received over 43% of the votes?
No further questions…
This article was posted on April 3, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
22 Jan 2014 | News and features, Politics and Society, Religion and Culture, Turkey
Thousands of protesters took to the streets of Istanbul on 1 June in the capital’s Taksim Square during demonstrations over plans to turn Gezi Park into a shopping mall. (Photo: Akin Aydinli / Demotix)
Author and playwright Meltem Arikan was amongst a small group of people who was accused by senior Turkish politicians and government sponsored media of being the architects of the May-June 2013 Gezi Park demonstrations. This was no idle threat, but a TV, newspaper and Twitter campaign designed to convince the Turkish people that the accused were responsible for the largest anti-government protest ever witnessed in Turkey. Forced to leave Turkey, she, and those closest to her, have come to live in UK and only now is she beginning to feel safe enough to tell her story.
What follows is Arikan’s personal account of the events.
For me everything starts on 27 May 2013.
Together with Memet Ali Alabora the director of my play Mi Minor, Pinar Ogun the lead actress and the play’s graphic designer Melin Edomwonyi, I went to KARVAK Awards Ceremony to receive our award for Best Play 2013 given by the Black Sea education, culture and environment protection foundation. As we made our way there, it didn’t seem possible that our lives were about to change completely. The ceremony started and the first award to be announced was a lifetime achievement award for the governor of Istanbul. The moment we heard this we stood up and left the venue, refusing to receive our award.
In Turkey, the governor is the highest state representative in the city, and has responsibility for and control over the police. At the time in Istanbul the frequent and excessive use of tear gas and heavy-handed police tactics to even the smallest gatherings — especially around Taksim — were causing real concern for us and many people. For example on 7 April, a peaceful demonstration of artists and cinema goers — including Greek film director Costa-Gavras — against the demolition of the Emek Theatre was dispersed with water cannons and tear gas.
We could not have accepted an award from an organisation that honoured the governor after all that was happening in the heart of our city.
We went straight home and read on Twitter that the trees at the Gezi Park, the only park in the area of the city called Taksim, were being destroyed to make way for a shopping mall. We started tweeting to make people aware of what was going on, that the trees needed protection. A small group of around 50 people went to the park to keep watch over the trees and stop them from being uprooted in the middle of the night. When the workmen drove into the park during the night ready to destroy the trees, the protesters asked if they had an official permit. They had no papers, so the workmen left the park. I followed everything on Twitter, retweeting the tweets and pictures that were coming out of the park. Looking at those pictures I was worried that, as with so many demonstrations, only a handful of people would turn up. So I kept retweeting moment by moment what was happening there all night.
Next Morning – 28 May
The digger came back in the morning at 8 am. By then there were 200 people in the park and, because of the growing numbers, the riot police used pepper spray and tear gas to clear it. At noon, pictures from Gezi Park were being shared on Twitter again, but this time they showed riot police using tear gas against peaceful protestors. The picture of the pepper-gassed woman in a red dress, that would later become an icon, was taken during this first police attack.
The attack had triggered more people to come to the park. We decided to join the protesters, to give our support to the trees and say “enough!” to the crazy number of shopping malls, which are poisoning our cities.
After the pepper gas attack the works in the park were restarted. This time the Istanbul MP, Sırrı Süreyya Önder, who is also a screenwriter and film director, stood with his arms wide open in front of a digger and asked for their permit. This stalled the destruction for the time being and the workmen left.
When we got to the park we could still smell the gas even though it was hours after the attack. Despite the stench, the joy and determination of the young protesters remained. By sunset nearly a thousand people had gathered. There were tents everywhere. It was clear that people living around Gezi Park supported the protests and they, too, wanted to save the trees, the treasured heart and lungs of Taksim Square. People were treating the damaged trees, and planting saplings in the holes left by the diggers. Women, men, strangers to one another, straight, gay, transsexual, young, old, little kids with their parents came together for the sake of the trees. Regardless of their differences they shared their feelings with one another. A table became a simple stage for people to speak from, prejudice gave way to the attempt to understand each other, music and dance took over from frustration. We wrote our thoughts on pieces of paper and hung them on the branches of the trees. Perhaps, in our country, where everyone had become “the other” to one another, for the first time, in that park, no one was “the other” anymore.
As the writer of the novel Hope is a Curse, it was wonderful for me to feel hope for the first time in years. Hope that, helped by new ways to exchange and share information, women and men can come together to lay claim to public space and freedom of speech, leaving the barriers of race, religion, sexual choices, language, ethnic roots and ideologies behind. Although we only planned to go to the park for an hour, after feeling the atmosphere there, I couldn’t leave. We all tweeted to spread the word that night. We chanted, danced, protested. It was as if something I had written years ago, was actually beginning to happen in front of me…
“Women!
We do not have to surrender to the beliefs that are imposed upon us.
The time has come for us to reclaim our stolen spirit.
We can sing the song of another culture without knowing its language.
Without knowing the steps, we can keep up with the rhythm.
The time has come for us to tune in to the music and the rhythm within ourselves.
Patriarchy will be scared, Patriarchy will resist. Patriarchy will accuse…
The time has come for us to reclaim our stolen spirit…
We will cover our ears and will burst out laughing at the accusations,
Women will dance and sing songs and laugh aloud.
In spite of everything, we will rise up in protest, propelled by our irrepressible laughter.
The new digital world will be shaped WITH women, not IN SPITE OF us”
29 May
The next day Prime Minister Recep Erdogan gave a speech and said that they will build a shopping mall no matter what the people say. After the prime minister’s speech more people came to Gezi Park.
I was there around 4 pm. This time there were thousands of people present, including supporter groups, political activists, environmentalists and even Turkish Airlines staff who were out on strike. People were coming to the park to give voice to the issues they were concerned about as well as to protect the trees.
It was like a festival. Even though it was much more crowded than the previous night, the atmosphere generated by such a large and diverse group of people was absolutely amazing. Could things change for real? This time, could we change things by singing songs, by dancing, by freely expressing ourselves all together? Could we actually protect this precious corner of nature from mad-made destruction? The leader of the opposition party visited the park that night. He promised to have two MPs stay there at all times. I left the park after midnight.
30 May
In the morning we heard that, at dawn around 5 am, the police had attacked people and the tents had been set on fire.
I was following everything on Twitter. Again, police had surrounded the park. Again, the Istanbul MP, Sırrı Süreyya, went to the park and again he stood up against the digger to stop the demolition. Again the police left the park. Once more, the protestors occupied the park. The tree watch went on.
Pinar and I didn’t get to the park until that night, because we had been in the studio all day shooting our TV programme Witch’s Cauldron. The early morning police raid had prompted crowds of people to come to the park. By the time we got there, there were more than 10,000 people gathered.
Some young people were tying pieces of colourful cloth to the branches of the trees to make wish trees just like in the old Shaman tradition. I was very moved to see young people picking up on this old tradition. More young trees were planted, more people were trying to heal the wounded trees. People were holding up banners and they were not just about Gezi Park. There were a lot of different issues addressed: protecting the environment, the demolition of the Emek Theatre, recent bombing and deaths in Antakya.
Speeches were made, poems were read and songs were sung on the small stage in the middle of the park. Yet again we chanted and danced until dawn.
31 May
We saw the riot police getting ready just as we were heading out of the square at 4 am. There were two MPs on duty from opposition party. We spoke to them. They said they could do nothing to stop the police attack.
As the sun rose, pressure in the park was rising. Protesters who were already awake warned those still sleeping in tents.
At 4:30 am, as we were on our way to a café down the road, the riot police moved in. At this point there were about 3,000 people in the park. Police used massive quantities of gas against the peaceful protestors. Trying to escape the storm of tear gas people got trapped on an old stone staircase in the park, which collapsed crushing dozens of protestors. Many people were badly affected by the excessive amount of gas, and many others were injured by tear gas capsules thrown directly at them.
It was, and still is, very difficult for me to tell the story of what happened that morning. Inside a café, on the first floor, even though the doors were shut, none of us was able to breathe without choking. I couldn’t make sense of the scene I was witnessing. What was this place? Where was I? What had happened to the songs, tents, banners and dances? The hope I had seen in the eyes of the young people, the wish notes on the trees, the voices of people united? What had triggered the violence? What had happened to turn all this into a war zone?
By 7 am Gezi Park was empty; everybody had fled. The police closed the park. Small numbers of people started to regroup in neighbourhoods around Taksim. We walked to Cihangir Street nearby. Sitting in a café it was hard to breathe and hard to believe how we had been abused. During the gas attack we had been separated from our friends, and now we were trying to get news about them. Had they been injured, arrested? Everyone was following the Twitter feeds, reading them out loud so that all of us could hear as reports coming out of Taksim Square told of the growing number of injured. The roads were closed, the police were everywhere and we were not able to leave the café. There was no media coverage of this brutality. Twitter was the only source of information and I was trying to follow every second of the feeds. I was furious and also felt completely disillusioned. A voice inside me was screaming “HOPE IS A CURSE! I TOLD YOU!”
At 10 am protesters who had now gathered outside Gezi Park made a statement to the press condemning the police brutality. After the press statement people tried to enter the park, and police once again fired tear gas. A couple of protestors, including the well-known journalist Ahmet Şık, were shot in the head with tear gas capsules. The police started to chase people in the streets but they were met with passive resistance – protesters stood still, some with their arms held up, some sitting on the ground. At 1 pm another statement was made — this time at Taksim Square. Then we heard that police once again had attacked.
We ran to help, but people had already dispersed. On the way back police were firing tear gas everywhere. A gas capsule fell next to my feet, I felt like I would never be able to breathe again. We washed our faces immediately with a mixture of water and Rennie tablets to neutralise the burning of the gas, and hid in an apartment building. I tried to come to grips with the reality of what was happening in front of my burning eyes. I could hear the sirens from outside and the screams of the people running. The same words going around in my head: Why all this violence and brutality? Why this hatred – who was it for? Once again I was witnessing how brutal male domination can be when people come together and say NO!
A young woman was hit by a capsule on her head, which left her in a coma for 30 days. She is still fighting for her life.
That day “Taksim Dayanışması” (Taksim Solidarity) the platform of nearly a hundred NGOs, political parties, and trade unions, that started the campaign against the planned shopping mall in Gezi Park called people to come together at Gezi Park at 7 pm. That day millions of tweets called for a gathering at Gezi Park.
All the time that Taksim was in chaos, there was nothing about what was happening in the mainstream media. Even more absurdly, one of the main news channels was showing a documentary about penguins while thousands of people were being attacked in the centre of Istanbul. This inspired a wave of satirical graffiti around the city – penguins in gas masks with slogans of defiance. We couldn’t go home because all the roads were closed and every minute more and more people appeared on the streets with goggles, helmets and plastic bottles filled with Rennie and water to protect each other from the effects of the gas.
Hearing the sounds of helicopters mixing with the sirens of the ambulances I felt completely disorientated. I closed my eyes and opened them… People falling on the ground in pain barely visible through the gas… I closed my eyes and opened them again to look for the helicopters I could only hear… I closed my eyes and opened them… A street dog lying on the ground… I closed my eyes and tears flowed in to my mouth tasting of pepper. My lips formed the word ENOUGH!
“I have seen how violence was created, when Patriarchy became merciless.
It was so cruel that I was frightened…
When the lives of those given by women were slaughtered by Patriarchy …
I saw nothingness…
The lives of those given by women were turning into fear and violence…
When we silently screamed ‘enough’, the cruelty of violence is so dense…
Enough, I feel shame.
Enough, I am a woman, violence was not born of me…”
On the night of 31st of May hundreds of thousands of people tried to reach Taksim Square on foot. We spent an hour on the street and then went to our friend’s home nearby. We could smell the gas inside the house and hear the ambulances, helicopters and people banging pots and pans in support of the protests from the windows of their houses. Then the first clashes between police and the protestors started; they carried on all night. We didn’t sleep at all.
1 June
In the morning Taksim was like a battlefield. The square was still surrounded by the police, and the protestors were still in the streets. Any one attempting to enter the square was forced back by the police.
Around 5:20 am, thousands of people started to march from the Asian side of Istanbul and crossed the Bosporus Bridge on foot to reach Taksim. They were joined by a big rally which had been planned months before to take place on 1 June on the Asian side. The government gave them permission and the police blockade was lifted. Hundreds of thousands of people entered Taksim Square. It was peaceful there but we heard about outbreaks of violence elsewhere because protests had spread to many parts of Istanbul and all around Turkey.
A group of high-profile artists, actors, directors, writers came together to appeal directly to the governor to stop the excessive use of police force, which they felt was responsible for the escalating violence. They couldn’t contact him so they sent out a call to fellow artists to join them in Cihangir Park to make a filmed appeal from the demonstration. I was there, too. When we entered the square there were nearly a million people and it was almost impossible to move through the crowds. Memet Ali Alabora, president of the actors union, spoke for the artists, addressing the governor and calling for peace; his speech was filmed and broadcast live as part of the first TV coverage of the demonstration.
Soon after the statement was made, I managed to get back to my house. I had no idea that I was to become a prisoner in my own home. From that moment until the day, two months later, when I decided to leave the country for good, I would only go outside once, for an hour, to the local shops.
At night clashes between police and protestors became increasingly brutal. That was when everything started to be broadcast internationally.
After the broadcasts went out all around the world the government, in an attempt to explain away what was happening, claimed that it was a conspiracy, a plot sponsored by foreign countries designed to bring us down. The only way the government could make sense of it was to find to someone to blame it on and to punish those responsible.
4 June
As the police violence increased more and more people left their houses and went out onto the streets. The more police brutality there was, the more people gathered in solidarity. The more thuggish the behavior of the police the more protestors responded with humour and satire – graffiti started to appear on the walls.
During the demonstrations the government had tried to control the flow of information, but they had failed to understand the significance of social media. They learned a valuable lesson — censoring the media had not prevented the people from finding out what was going on. In fact it had the opposite effect. It spawned thousands of new social media users, who understood — some for the first time — what young people have known all their lives, that new media has transformed the way we share and access information and ideas.
This change in perception was more threatening to the authorities than any weapon and signals the transition from the analogue to digital world order. In Gezi Park there was no leader, everything started and developed spontaneously. The majority of the protesters were from the new digital generation, who connect with the world, using technological tools to access the free flow of information and to express themselves freely.
As the Turkish prime minister said: Twitter has become a troublemaker.
Instead of listening to us — to the citizens — the prime minister, like an authoritarian father, tried to silence us, gave orders to the police to attack and harm us — seven young people and a police officer died, 4,329 people were injured some lost their eyes, others their arms, a few still in hospital — all because of the excessive police violence.
Instead of trying to understand what we were feeling, he told us he didn’t care. For thousands of years patriarchy has perpetrated violence by ignoring its conscience. Our prime minister said Obey Me. Arrogant, ignorant, oppressive, persistent and irreconcilable as always. Here were the age-old violent tactics of male domination used against men and women whose crime was to come together to protect nature from needless destruction.
The world thinks Turkey is a third world country, but in Gezi Park the demonstrators supported modern secular universal values. They didn’t say we are hungry or we want a job. Instead they said, “We respect nature and defend the lives of the trees. We want to exist as who we are, we want religious, sexual and cultural freedom. We don’t want racial, ethnic or political discrimination. We want free flow of information, we want free expression.”
Read Index’s interview with Arikan: A conversation with Meltem Arikan, Turkish playwright and author (7 January 2014)
This article was posted on 22 January 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
8 Jan 2014 | News and features, Politics and Society, Turkey
Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan (Photo: Philip Janek / Demotix)
“What happened in Turkey during the last ten years?” When the storm is over and if we wake up to a bright morning after it’s all over, we will end up with that question at hand which could take another ten years to answer.
One answer could commence as such: A leader came upon and he taught his people a template to think by repeating it over and over again. (The frequency and length of Prime Minister’s speeches are not without cause. Their purpose is not to leave a space to think, therefore a chance to doubt for the people.)
Around the leader an alignment was formed as it happens with all leaders. That working alliance matured, deepened and ornamented leader’s modus operandi. That educated alliance, members of which were not worse than the average in society, wore the oppugning, vindictive, ambushing style and worked hard to provide an intellectual legitimation for the leader’s template. (Those who wrote headlines such as “they were not arrested for their journalistic activities,” journalists providing testimonials for KCK and Ergenekon cases for the judiciary which was already politicized, academicians feasting for “civil governance,” attorneys dancing with jackals, artists using all forms of art, from poetry to music, to be included in the photo shot of good fortune. I’m talking about a huge crowd.)
Since the rest of the people who were not included in the leader’s definition of “my citizens” meaning “the real citizens,” are considered non-human – therefore expelled from human status-, unlawful cruelty against those was accepted in the beginning, later totally ignored. Leader told “his citizens” not to consider the others, nor to feel remorse or feel for them, time and again.
Leader told to “his people” that they were the ones who were done injustice in fact, he told that many times. He told that so many times that they finally believed in him. They wanted to believe, for humanity cannot accept harm for malfeasance. Malfeasance must have a “good” reason, having something to do with benefaction, and grievance is always a good reason. At the end, party member “citizens” started to see the killing of kids by ambition for power, that are as poor as themselves, as a conspiracy against them. (A nation who does not feel remorse after seeing the face of Ali Ismail Korkmaz, a youngster beaten to death by the police during Occupy Gezi, is seriously ill, is insane.)
Leader did not only destroy justice but also the feeling of one. No one in this country can no longer relate a court of justice to jurisprudence, nobody can. Leader replaced the justice, which is supposed to be the basis of the estate with the love the masses felt for him. The behavior of the people in leader’s rallies/rites wearing shrouds and going crazy were not without reason; they sacrificed their physical and spiritual beings for the being of the leader. Leader was justice itself. As the concept of justice is related to God in ancient man’s mind.
For the length of ten years, organized ignorance, in the form of crazy and colossal crowds, mounted over freedom of opinion, human values, conscience and common denominators of humanity. They had their leader shouting “Ahead!” Numerous and grave human rights violations were experienced. It would take at least another ten years to account for those.
When the current ten years are over and a new ten years period would start, it would be more difficult for us. We would ask “what had happened?” We would like to find out by thinking over. Whilst looking for a historical reason we would end up at September 12 coup d’état. As we scratch the surface of history we would arrive at a point when “Deniz and his friends” were hanged, when in fact “kindness” was dangling on the gallows, in fact all were silent back then as well.
Maybe we would go further back to the Dersim Massacre. Maybe further back. To 1915. Maybe further back in history to the time of Ottoman sultans who slayed their brothers… We would search for “the seed of malfeasance” on this land, the first sin, the first womb of mercilessness. But it would still be very difficult to account for the last ten years. Because it is almost impossible to find a rational reason for organized ignorance, organized desire to not to think, organized unscrupulousness. If we finally decide to try those in the court of humanity, if we would have the power to do that, we then have the chore to find a courthouse big enough for all who started that system, for all who supported it and made it possible. That crowd is for sure very crowded.
*The book Radical Malfeasance Problem in Hannah Arendt” by Berrak Coskun, published by Ayrinti Publishers, inspires this article. With gratitude.
The original article in Turkish is published in Birgün Daily on January 6th, 2014. Translated to English by Stratos Moraitis. The translation was originally published at The Globe Times and is posted here with permission of the author.
29 Nov 2013 | News and features, Turkey, Turkey Uncensored
Yavuz Baydar
Turkey’s “mainstream” media, politically and economically in shackles is moving towards submitting to the kind of conditions like those in Central Asian republics such as Azerbaijan. This progression was plain for all to see on live television this week.
Tuesdays have for a long time turned into political shouting matches in Ankara. Stretching the boundaries of parliament’s bylaws, leaders of the parties assemble deputies in so- called group meetings in the lawmakers’ building, where they unleash propaganda.
These appearances are, as obliged by law, broadcast by the state-run TRT channels.
But, as Turkey’s Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has systematically tightened the screws over the proprietors of the conglomerate media, all the national private news channels – there are at least 15 of them – for months turned this custom into a routine of airing his lengthy, loud speeches without interruption.
Last Tuesday, the disturbing pattern went even further. It was the the beginning of the local elections campaign, so Erdoğan let media know that he would announce the names of some of the minor mayoral candidates, in the group meeting.
Amid pomp and circumstance, he did. The entire meeting was meticulously designed as a massive propaganda show for the AKP, backed with lengthy video clips on the achievements in each and every city. And the private media followed herdlike in airing it live.
Many wondered whether Turkey had turned into Azerbaijan or Turkmenistan overnight.
“Unbelievable!” wrote Hasan Cemal, a veteran colleague who was forced to leave Milliyet daily for his defence of good journalism 6 months ago. “Election propaganda that can only be done by paid adverts was sent live on all the channels. This can never happen in any democratic country. I would not wish to be in the place of my colleagues who had to do this.”
The truth of the matter is, by each step, because of the enthusiastic consent of media proprietors in Turkey, either blinded by greed, or frightened to submission or both – to surrender fully to the will of political power, there is not much basic journalism left in the country. All this has been happening against the background of Turkey’s accession process with the European Union.
in a recent update of two earlier reports by the liberal think-tank, TESEV, dated 2011 and 2012, Dr Ceren Sözeri of Galatasaray University concluded that “the media owners are increasingly winning the important public tenders in proportion to their sizes, and the role of their media operations during this process cannot be underestimated. It also explains why the media owners please the government at every possible occasion…”
Sözeri added that businesses that own the big media outlets win important public tenders in direct proportion to their weight in the media sector.
Commenting in a recent article on Turkish conglomerate media’s shady relations with the government, Barış Altıntaş, a colleague from daily Today’s Zaman wrote “it is no wonder readers rarely see stories about shady business dealings involving government agencies, although it is no secret that corruption, especially in public tenders, is rampant in Turkey.”
As a consequence, whatever remains of editorial independence at the center of Turkish journalism, as Tuesday’s spectacular media cooperation displayed, has been eroded further. The new media order being cemented is run by a control-obsessed prime minister, submissive media barons, civil-servant type puppet editors in chief, ostrich-like newsrooms and frightened or weary reporters.
Turkey’s needy public is kept farther away from truth; and instead bombarded by propaganda.
The lack of solidarity within the profession is remarkable. As the screws are tightened further, one of the greatest stories unfolding was about the National Intelligence Agency of Turkey (MIT), which wiretapped a group of journalists with the consent of the Prime Ministry.
Independent-secularist daily Cumhuriyet reported the story that a classified document signed by the head of MIT was sent to the Prime Ministry and that Prime Minister Erdoğan gave approval to the wiretapping of some journalists and writers, that the “necessary coordination was made with the judiciary,” and that MIT carried out the wiretappings. According to the daily, phones of journalists Yasemin Çongar, Mehmet Baransu, Amberin Zaman and Mehmet Altan were wiretapped.
When the story was first revealed last year, the journalists filed a criminal complaint against MIT, and a legal case was opened. An İstanbul court hearing the case earlier asked MİT why the journalists were wiretapped by the organization. The organisation sent a response to the court and said the wiretapping was carried out legally and the phones of the journalists were wiretapped for the ‘benefit of the public’.
Cumhuriyet’s story received no denials from the authorities. One of the targeted journalists, Mehmet Altan, told daily Taraf “[T]his one is a big scandal and constitutional breach.
“This document of directive, signed by the prime minister and head of MIT shows that the authorities do not take seriously its own constitution nor its laws, which were also violated by a cooperation between MIT and the judiciary” he said.
Perhaps not so surprisingly, the story – which is earth-shattering in its essence, revealing the worrisome trends in Turkey against the very core of media freedom and right to privacy – was almost entirely ignored by the conglomerate media, and covered only by a very few small outlets.
One of the few objections to the self-censorship over the story came from Doğan Akın, Editor of the independent web site T24, who in a bitter column accused the entire journalism corps of what he called “not being able to cry out, with mouths shut”.
He bashed media barons for ‘buying opression on journalism’ and ‘investing only on fear’ for the sake of their other business interests.
Another colleague, Abdullah Bozkurt, Ankara Bureau Chief of daily Today’s Zaman, expressed profound concern that media has become toothless and added another dimension:
“Considering the widespread allegations that MIT has been putting journalists on its payroll in Turkey, financing reporters through clandestine activities to promote the agency and to clutter the information space through unscrupulous reporting fed to them by the agency, the media’s public interest advocacy role is very much diluted.”
Turkey Uncensored is an Index on Censorship project to publish a series of articles from censored Turkish writers, artists and translators.
