By Lisa Morrow
Updated 40 minutes ago
Photo: Anti-goverment protestors play music in Gezi park, near Taksim square on June 15. (AFP: Bulent Kilic)
After a month of demonstrations and violence, the people of Turkey are turning to forums, concerts and festivals as avenues for change. But the country still has a long way to go, writes Lisa Morrow.
Last week I caught a bus to Kadıköy my local shopping area. Traffic is always bad here, so Istanbul bus drivers usually let passengers off where it is most convenient, rather than only at designated bus stops.
This time the traffic was horrendous. We were caught in a gridlock caused by roadwork being done to improve the pavements. The work has been going on for some months now, funded by the Istanbul Büyükşehir Belediyesi (Istanbul Greater City Council). I've been told it is being done now because the council elections are coming up next year, and they want to curry favour with the electorate. Kadir Topbaş, the Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi (AKP - Justice and Development Party) Mayor of Istanbul wants to win another term.
A passenger asked the driver to open the doors as we were nowhere near the next stop and it was clear it would take some time to get there. Surprisingly the driver refused. The passenger, a young woman, pleaded with him, flatteringly referring to him as 'my big brother'. She was very polite but he ignored her.
In the past, the people on a bus would have shown their disapproval by repeatedly tut-tutting. This time however, no-one was prepared to remain passive. Another woman insisted the doors be opened and the driver said no, he couldn't let a passenger off in the middle of the street. Everyone laughed and said why not? It happened all the time.
More and more passengers started to forcefully insist he do as they say but the driver just became more officious. He said he wasn't prepared to break the rules. But one man loudly pointed out the driver already had, by talking on his mobile while he was driving. I held my breath to see what the driver would do. He held his ground and the next minute everyone was angrily calling out to him, half of them on their feet looking as if they were preparing to take over the bus. I started to feel afraid of what might happen, but just as quickly as it blew up, everything suddenly calmed down again.
It took the bus 25 minutes to travel 45 metres to the bus stop, and when the passengers finally got off they stood in the road to note down the bus number. Just in case the driver didn't understand what they were doing, the passengers on the bus pointed out what a good idea it was to complain about him. Perhaps the people took the chance to vent their frustrations with authority in the light of the police intervention in Gezi Park in June. Turks are emotional people and at times volatile, but in all my years in the country I have rarely seen them openly challenge authority figures. Those who lived through the military coup of 1980 and its bloody aftermath have a healthy fear of resisting those in power, and mechanisms enacted then are still in place to stifle expressions of public dissatisfaction.
When the May Day celebrations started to become the focus for general public discontent, the local authorities responded by cancelling the ferry services...
Large-scale demonstrations have been restricted for many years, or orchestrated out of existence. One example of this are the May Day celebrations usually held in Taksim Square. As well as being a traditional labour day celebration, May 1 in Istanbul commemorates the shooting and subsequent deaths of between 34 and 42 demonstrators back in 1977. Various theories have been put forward as to who was behind the initial shootings that lead to mass panic and stampedes, but no-one has been held responsible. Until a few years ago the first of May was a working day like any other. When the May Day celebrations started to become the focus for general public discontent, the local authorities responded by cancelling the ferry services between the European and Asian sides of Istanbul. This made it near impossible for people from the Asian side to attend any planned rallies, as the roads were effectively gridlocked by the extra demand caused by the lack of sea transport services. This also made it nearly impossible for people to get to work too, so May 1 was declared a public holiday.
This year easy access through Taksim Square was disabled by major construction work aimed at remodelling pedestrian access, replacing the existing Ataturk Cultural Centre, and building historical barracks in Gezi Park, which would house a shopping centre and hotel. Despite the chaos nearly one million commuters safely passed through the square every working day. A request to hold a May Day rally in the square was denied. The official reason given was that it would not be safe for the estimated 50,000 participants to march through the square. Nonetheless people did gather and attempt to march through the square, but were repelled by police using tear gas.
In this same square, Gezi Park became the focus of environmental protests when bulldozers were brought in to remove the trees. In the early hours of May 31 peaceful protestors were forcefully evicted by police using tear gas and water cannon. Tents belonging to protestors were set on fire to ensure they couldn't return. People were horrified by these actions, and overnight a small environmental protest metamorphosed into a call for change as people found the courage to make themselves heard.
From that day onwards, residents of Istanbul and many cities and towns throughout the country marched, banged pots and pans, clapped, chanted and sang to get their message across. They wanted all the trappings of democracy - the right to freedom of speech and a participatory rather than an authoritarian government. In the following month hundreds of photos and videos were posted on Facebook showing citizens being targeted by water cannon, overcome by tear gas and beaten by members of the police and other special forces. Twitter was flooded with calls for medical supplies, the phone numbers of people providing free legal aid, food and respite. Now that the initial shock and disbelief have worn off, the outrage hasn't lessened.
Although people continue to demonstrate in Taksim on weekends, thousands of other people are attending nightly public forums to focus on these events, what they mean for the question of democracy, what it is and whether it really exists in Turkey. On a more practical level they are offering legal advice and media assistance. The first forum was held on Monday the June 17, in Abbasağa Park in Beşiktaş. On the Wednesday of that week there were 16 meetings in total in Istanbul and by the Friday, there were 41 forums in Istanbul, 13 in Ankara, and several more in Eskişehir, Izmir, Bodrum and elsewhere.
The forums... have sprung up seemingly from everywhere and nowhere.
The Abbasağa Park forum was initiated by Çarşı, the Beşiktaş football fan club mainly known for their love of football. They have been in the thick of the protests from the beginning, uniting with supporters of their main rivals Fenerbahçe and Galatasaray football clubs. The unlikely nature of the alliances being formed is reflected in the people attending the forums. Those participating in forums around the country include students, professionals, members of the Anti-capitalist Muslim group, the Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transexual community, Revolutionary Muslims, Kurds, Alevis, Cumhuriyet Halk Partisi (Republican People's Party) members, Kemalists and other Turks from a multiplicity of backgrounds. Like all the meetings being held, they are run along democratic lines. Anyone can speak, each speaker has only two minutes to get their point across and the audience must respond with hand gestures so people in nearby apartments aren't disturbed by noise. Agreement is signalled by putting your hands up in the air and shaking them, disagreement by crossing your hands in the air.
The forums, like calls to boycott companies who either support the ruling AKP government or those who refused to shelter protestors running from the police, selling of T-shirts and stationery items commemorating events, writing of songs and holding of festivals, have sprung up seemingly from everywhere and nowhere. There is no single person or group leading these evolving forms of protest, and herein lies the power of the movement for change in Turkey. It is a union of difference united by shared values. People say they are tired of being told what to do, of being tormented by petty rules and gross misuse of authority which itself fails to follow the rules.
Photo: Protesters gathered at Taksim Square in Istanbul, on June 29. (AFP: Gurcan Osturk)
Following a month of watching demonstrators and bystanders being tear gassed, hosed, shot at with rubber and plastic bullets, beaten up and detained, the evolution of these forums and the concerts and festivals made me feel there was real hope for change in Turkey. When I started writing this update I chose the title "A Brave New Turkey?" out of optimism. The courts had ruled the development work in Gezi Park was illegal and although the government had 15 days to appeal, most people believed the ruling would be upheld. Responding to a call by the Taksim Solidarity Platform, people gathered in Taksim Square on Saturday July 6, to peacefully take back Gezi Park. In the meantime the legal advice to the Platform was that the park should be open to public use. Several hours before the demonstration was due to start Governor Mutlu tweeted that the park would be officially reopened on Sunday, the next day. Maybe the voice of the Turkish people, whatever their persuasion, was finally being heard.
But then gas and water attacks started at 7pm and I learnt new words like satır (meat cleaver) and pala (scimitar). The police chased protestors towards an area rich in tourist hotels, a few hundred metres from Taksim Square. At the end of the street, waiting for the protestors was a man brandishing a scimitar. The footage I viewed showed him hit a woman with it and then kick her in the back. Around them, other people, including tourists, were fleeing in panic. The man and his companions approach the police. The police appear to do doing nothing to stop them and just push them on their way. Within a few hours the man had been named, and his identity number and address published on Facebook. He owns a café in the area of the protests and is angry at the effect they are having on his business. After his details appeared on Facebook he and the other men were detained. They were soon released with no charges and the main perpetrator has since fled to Morocco.
This is not the only example of police clashing with protestors in the last few days but it is the one which made me feel the title of this piece owes more to Aldous Huxley than to hope. My friends who live in the Taksim area and who are not protesting are being affected by tear gas every other day, yet it is now illegal to carry a gas mask. A fifth person has just died as a result of injuries he sustained during the protests which occurred in June, this time in Eskişehir. His death has been mourned by people around the country but it is unlikely his attackers will ever be found and charged. And in the latest turn of events the armed man seen indiscriminately attacking civilians may be able to claim compensation for the loss of business he suffered as a result of alleged 'terrorism acts' scaring away his customers. Meanwhile some American commentators are praising the maturity of Turkish democracy in light of the AKP response to the 'coup' in Egypt last week, so I'm left wondering what the real definition of democracy is.
Lisa Morrow is an Australian writer living in Istanbul, Turkey. View her full profile here.
What lies ahead for a brave new Turkey? - The Drum (Australian Broadcasting Corporation)
