14 Mar 2016 | Europe and Central Asia, mobile, News, Turkey, Turkey Uncensored
Thousands of people gather in solidarity outside Zaman newspaper in Istanbul on 5 March 2016.
Nicole Pope is an independent writer, journalist, Turkey analyst, translator, editor, consultant. Pope was a columnist for Today’s Zaman since its launch on 15 January 2007. This column was rejected by the new management of Zaman.
How do you write a column for a newspaper that still exists nominally but has been taken over by trustees appointed by an “independent” court? Such are the dilemmas in a country where democratic standards are slipping rapidly. No journalism school or manual of ethical journalism prepares one for such a situation.
Do you stop writing immediately to stand against an obvious violation of press freedom and show solidarity with colleagues who have already been dismissed? Or do you sit down to pen one last column in support of the journalists and employees still at work, whose livelihood is under threat? They are doing their job and preparing a newspaper even though they know, as I do, that in the current hostile environment it is unlikely to be published in its original form or even published at all.
I opted for the latter, which potentially also offers the opportunity to thank the readers who have followed me over the years and to comment on the rapid deterioration of fundamental freedoms in Turkey.
The takeover of the Zaman group, supported by tear gas and water cannons, was reflected on television screens around the world in all its brutality. It needs to be viewed in a broader context as the latest of many blows inflicted to the independence of the media in Turkey where journalists’ ability to cover events and hold those in power accountable has been shrinking for some time.
In recent months, the crackdown has intensified. Few independent outlets remain, particularly on television, which reaches the widest audience. This allows the authorities to control the narrative and produce a sanitized version of events that suit their purposes.
The notion that criticism can be constructive, allowing societies to improve, grow and be more innovative and also ensuring that those in power serve the interests of the population as a whole, has vanished entirely in the black and white, with us or against us world that the “new” Justice and Development Party (AKP) has constructed.
After spending more than a quarter of a century covering Turkey, I’m aware that media independence has always been an elusive concept, not just for politicians, but also for media groups — even this one, in some instances — and among journalists themselves. In the twists and turns of Turkish politics, we’ve all been caught short at one point or another.
What makes the current decline particularly painful is that for a brief moment in its early years, the AKP lifted some red lines and allowed sensitive topics to be discussed more openly. But the window did not remain open for long. Today, the power exercised in the past by the military-backed state has shifted to different hands and it is more concentrated than ever before.
Some 30 journalists are currently behind bars. Countless others face judicial harassment and pay regular visits to court to answer ludicrous charges designed to intimidate and silence them. The recent Constitutional Court’s decision to release Can Dündar and Erdem Gül provided only a brief respite.
Media independence and freedom of expression are important in and of themselves, but they also underpin other rights, allowing violations to be exposed to public scrutiny. In the absence of free media access, the human cost and the devastation caused by the blanket curfews imposed in places like Cizre and Sur, where government forces are fighting Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) militants, have not received adequate attention, for instance, although ministers acknowledge that 355,000 residents have been displaced.
With much of the media under government control, the voices of progressive women are also being drowned. As the world marks International Women’s Day, the Turkish authorities have resorted to prohibitions and rubber bullets to prevent Turkish women from taking their demands to the streets.
Violence against women and the struggle for gender equality have always occupied an important place in this column because I view the prevailing brand of macho politics, which imposes views instead of seeking compromise and rules through confrontation rather than consensus, as a major hindrance to Turkey’s democratic and economic development.
This patriarchal approach, based on traditional gender roles, currently reigns supreme. It goes hand-in-hand with a top-down understanding of politics that brooks no dissent and wants to silence independent voices in the media and in society. As I bid readers goodbye, I wish I could have ended on a more optimistic note.
Sign Index on Censorship’s petition to end Turkey’s crackdown on press freedom.
Turkey Uncensored is an Index on Censorship project to publish a series of articles from censored Turkish writers, artists and translators.
11 Mar 2016 | Europe and Central Asia, mobile, News, Turkey, Turkey Uncensored
Watching the surreal videos of the police takeover of Turkish newspaper Zaman last week — inside the building police officers played cards behind the newspaper’s reception desk and devoured plates of baklava in the cafeteria as journalists looked on — I was reminded of the events of the past eight years that so definitively transformed Turkey’s media scene.
The change happened so gradually over the years that many missed the transformation. But journalism in Turkey has turned into a scene of feuds and long-held hostilities. The job description of a Turkish journalist now includes the ability to help lock up journalists from the opposite political camp.
Over the past eight years, a spate of legal cases have altered Turkey’s media environment beyond return. The most recent of these was the 2014 Selam Tevhid case, in which prosecutors intended to jail Turkey’s pro-government journalists who were accused of being foreign spies and aiding terrorist organisations.
But it was the OdaTV case of 2011 that had the greatest impact on journalism. The outcome silenced the popular and populist voice of secular nationalists and spread fear and paranoia to all media workers.
Earlier, in September 2008, after selling off his secular-nationalist broadcaster KanalTurk, Turkish journalist Tuncay Özkan was detained by Turkish police in relation to the Ergenekon investigation. He was detained in the Silivri Penitentiary, Europe’s largest penal facility where he would await the outcome of his trial for more than two years. One of Özkan‘s friends, Mustafa Balbay, the Ankara correspondent of Cumhuriyet newspaper, was also imprisoned in the same trial.
To many observers, Özkan’s and Balbay’s ideas were old fashioned, parochial and too nationalistic, views that somehow defined the way they were treated in the public sphere. There was little international reaction when Özkan’s KanalTurk‘s staunchly secularist and republican editorial line was changed overnight. The same broadcaster now defended polar opposite views.
After five years in detention, Özkan was sentenced in April 2013 to life imprisonment for being part of Ergenekon, a “ultra-secularist organisation that plotted a coup”. Balbay was luckier: he received 34 years and 8 months. Again, there was little world reaction to this surreal turn of events, but, in Turkey, many progressive voices applauded the verdicts, seeing them as part of what they ominously called the country’s “normalisation”.
Throughout 2008, Turkey’s media sphere changed enormously through these trials that made the criminalisation of Turkey’s media part of the journalistic occupation. More than a dozen journalists were detained in the OdaTV trials, accused of being members of the “media arm” of the terrorist organisation Ergenekon, named after Turks’ founding myth. There were so many arrests that the prison’s sports hall needed to be transformed into a courtroom to accommodate all the defendants.
Many of Turkey’s progressives bought into the idea that what was happening was a good thing. Once “ultra-secularist coup plotters” would be placed behind bars, Turkey would finally achieve its long-awaited “liberal consensus”. Those who opposed the arrests were branded reactionaries who should have known better.
According to the newspapers, Turkey was cleaning its bowels: there were lone dissenting voices but the general reaction to the prison verdicts was that all the bad, radical people were finally getting what they had long deserved.
The normalisation discourse was built on the idea that Turkey needed a “liberal consensus” where the extreme elements of politics and the media needed to leave the public sphere to moderates of all political persuasions. Thanks to this, Turkey would be able to become “a model democracy” in the Middle East.
As the trials continued, and more than 40 Kurdish journalists were imprisoned because of their alleged ties to terrorist groups, Turkey was represented as its most liberal self in the international scene — what made it democratic, the argument ran, was the trials themselves. In fact, Turkey was being its most illiberal self, having the highest number of journalists in prison at the time. In 2012, just a year before the anti-government Gezi Park protests, the country was being held up as a paradigm. A Reporters Without Borders report from that year, read: “With a total of 72 media personnel currently detained, of whom at least 42 journalists and four media assistants are being held in connection with their media work, Turkey is now the world’s biggest prison for journalists – a sad paradox for a country that portrays itself a regional democratic model.”
Worryingly, the Ergenekon and OdaTV trials moulded a new type of journalist who took pleasure in the jailing of his colleagues. After journalist and IPI World Press Freedom Hero Nedim Sener and his colleague Ahmet Sik were detained in 2011, they were conveniently added to the list of coup plotters. When journalist and editor Soner Yalcin was arrested in February 2011 along with other OdaTv journalists, this was seen as a blow to Turkish nationalism, rather than journalism. In the fight with nationalism, the locking up of nationalist journalists was seen as a necessary evil.
By 2011, the process that had begun in 2008 reached new heights, when the character assassination of journalists became commonplace in the Turkish press. It was now acceptable to publish transcripts of phone conversations between journalists who might have been plotting a coup.
A more troubling development was the rise of a new genre: more and more journalists devoted all their work to making incriminating accusations against their colleagues. The success of a journalist’s work was now defined by the outcome of trials he had supported with his columns: if he managed to get his colleagues convicted through defaming their character, he was promoted.
No political group was able to resist the attraction of this new, adrenaline-ridden form of journalism and, most alarmingly, readers who followed those developments, started taking joy in this spectacle, a development that would surely fascinate Michel Foucault. Journalism became meta: newspaper front pages tallied which journalists were locked up and which were freed. There was fresh material every other month: the political identities of imprisoned journalists changed but the end result was the same.
It is now clear how Turkey’s fake “liberal consensus” failed spectacularly. However unpalatable progressives found them, Turkey’s secularist-nationalists, socialists and communists defended their right to exist in a society where they constitute a historical phenomenon alongside Turkey’s conservatives. Their imprisonment in the name of normalisation was unacceptable and immoral.
Instead of a liberal consensus, what Turkey needs is a proper dissensus: the coexistence of these different political camps.
Turkey Uncensored is an Index on Censorship project to publish a series of articles from censored Turkish writers, artists and translators.
11 Mar 2016 | mobile, News, Turkey, Turkey Letters, Turkey Statements
A week and 2,611 signatures later, our work denouncing the Turkish authorities for the takeover of Zaman — a formerly independent publication once critical of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s regime — is far from over.
Leading UK newspaper editors and journalists including Tony Gallagher (The Sun) and Paul Dacre (Daily Mail) have already joined journalists Tim Stanley, Peter Oborne and James Ball — among others, including artist and author Molly Crabapple, historian and author Tom Holland and Greg Lukianoff, president and CEO of the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education (FIRE) — to condemn the seizure by signing Index on Censorship’s open letter. If you haven’t already, please join them.
The call to action reads: “Today Turkey seized one of the country’s leading newspapers. In so doing, Turkey has confirmed that it is no longer committed to a free press, which is the bedrock of any democratic society.”
In the days following the attack on Zaman with tear gas and water cannons, Turkey’s prime minister Ahmet Davutoğlu was greeted in Brussels with offers of billions of dollars in aid, visa-free travel for Turks in Europe and renewed prospects for joining the European Union. In return, Turkey says it will help Europe manage its refugee crisis. As talks continue, so must our efforts to ensure the most basic standards of democracy and a free press are upheld in Turkey.
As Index on Censorship’s Mapping Media Freedom project shows, Zaman is just the latest in a long line of media violations in Turkey. In the wake of the takeover, the crackdown looks set to continue.
We must ensure Turkish authorities are held to account for their actions. Start now, with the small act of signing the petition calling for the court to reverse its decision and show solidarity and support afflicted journalists.
7 Mar 2016 | Europe and Central Asia, Mapping Media Freedom, News, Turkey
On Friday night, security forces stormed Zaman, the widest-circulating Turkish newspaper. Though many Turkish news outlets studiously avoided covering the raids, the screens of international news channels were full of images of Turkish police using tear gas and water cannon against protestors trying to protect their paper. Particularly striking were the injuries to young women wearing Islamic headgear, the very segment of the community, which the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) once vowed to defend.
The seizure of a news organisation by placing it into court-appointed administration is not trivial. The Zaman group employs some two thousand people, runs a nationwide network of correspondents and puts out an English language daily, Today’s Zaman, which has an international following on the web. It is impossible to imagine a court in any country with the slightest pretension of being democratic acting with such impunity.
The final headline of the independent version of Zaman was that there could be no legal basis for the takeover. Indeed, Article 30 of the Turkish Constitution reads: “A printing house and its annexes, duly established as a press enterprise under law, and press equipment shall not be seized, confiscated, or barred from operation on the grounds of having been used in a crime.” (As amended on May 7, 2004; Act No. 5170)”
It is no secret that Zaman demonstrated fidelity to the movement associated with the exiled cleric, Fethullah Gülen. The paper once supported the rise of AKP but in recent years has been a bitter critic. The legal document, which placed Zaman’s parent company into court-appointed administration, relies on the testimony of an anonymous witness who maintains that the editorial policy was dictated by what it calls the Fethullah Terror Organisation (FETÖ in its Turkish acronym). This in turn is guilty of conspiring with the outlawed Kurdistan Workers Party (PKK). It is enough to point out that the existence of FETÖ is at best hearsay, at worst the invention of subeditors in the pro-government press – never mind that Zaman itself once took a more hawkish line towards the PKK than the government itself.
According to reports reaching P24, the prosecutor struggled to find a court which would accede to his request. The Zaman building is in the Bakırköy province of Istanbul and comes under its jurisdiction. However, the request in the Bakırköy court was refused. Finally another, more friendly court acceded to the prosecutor’s demand, even though it is dubious whether it had the competence to do so.
The paper may not be guilty of treason but is has been guilty of apostasy – of having turned its back on AKP and President Tayyip Erdoğan in particular. Since then the two have been in mortal combat. Loyalists to the Gülen movement and the Zaman group in particular pursued corruption allegations against leading government officials in December 2013.
By forcing Zaman’s takeover the government lays itself open to universal condemnation. Turkey, once a proud EU applicant, now plumbs the lower depths of global rankings of transparency and free expression. Sadder still, this does not seem to trouble it a jot.
“The timing is a slap in the face,” according to a diplomat quoted in The Financial Times. “The seizure came during a visit to Istanbul by Donald Tusk, the European Council president, and two days before Angela Merkel, the German chancellor, is to see Ahmet Davutoğlu, the Turkish premier,” the paper points out. Turkey now calibrates its place in the world not as a democratic standard bearer in a troubled part of the globe but as a buffer zone between Fortress Europe and a tide of Syrian refugees. This, it believes, gives it licence to get away with the murder of a newspaper.
In Turkey all eyes, government and opposition, are on the EU to see if Brussels is prepared to put expediency above principle and if European pubic opinion is prepared to see Ankara give up all pretence of democratic governance in exchange for grudging cooperation on Syria.
It is not just the timing of the EU summit, which is significant. The Constitutional Court recently gave the presidential office a swift kick in the shins with the release from pre-trial detention of the editor-in-chief of Cumhuriyet newspaper along with his Ankara bureau chief. The high court ruled that the charges against them – that printing stories in a newspaper could correspond to treason – were essentially absurd. Since then, newspapers and ministers loyal to the president have been braying for the judges’ blood. The president himself has said he would neither respect nor abide by the high court’s decision and now appears even more determined to draft a new constitution which would allow him to do exactly that.
Not everyone in AKP supports this autocratic trend. There is a small wave of discontent from the old guard who believe a constitution that concentrates even greater powers in presidential hands is a dangerous step. These homegrown dissidents took quiet satisfaction in the court’s defence of Cumhuriyet. So one can see the raid against Zaman as the president re-asserting his authority against these pockets of resistance to one-man rule.
Turkey’s 1982 Constitution was prepared under conditions of martial law. It attempted to dictate a society in which the rights of citizen were subservient to the needs of the state. This rendered it anachronistic before the ink on the Official Gazette was dry. It has constantly been rewritten and there have been consistent demands that it be replaced.
Yet no one, not even in their wildest babblings, ever claimed the current Constitution was insufficiently authoritarian, or that it ceded too little power to the arbitrary whim of government, or that it failed to enshrine the Machiavellian principle that “might makes right”.
No one, that is, until now. As the ink on the printing presses of Turkey’s independent media run dry so too do hopes for the country’s future.
See also:
Statement: Index condemns seizure of Zaman
Sign our petition: End Turkey’s crackdown on press freedom
Letter: Writers and artists condemn seizure of Zaman news group
Reaction: Turkish court orders seizure of Zaman news group
Originally posted on Platform 24.
