13 Feb 2014 | Religion and Culture, Turkey
A companion report: Freedom of expression in the arts and censorship in Kurdish Region, Diyarbakir, Batman
In the course of its research Siyah Bant has conceptualized censorship not just as the banning of artistic expression through legal means but included process of delegitimization, threats, pressure, targeting and hate speech directed at artists and arts institutions that foreclose or delimit the presentation and circulation of artworks. Among the actors that Siyah Bant has identified through site visits throughout Turkey are state institutions, political groups and parties, individuals who act as proxies of the state, neighborhood organizations, as well as actors more closely related to the art world in its narrower sense, such as arts and cultural organizations, curators, funding agencies and sponsors.
As censorship in the arts has been rarely reported in depth, we wanted to contribute to broader public knowledge of the different mechanisms with which freedom of the arts is undermined. We have also aimed to show that censorship in the arts violates both the guaranteed freedom of expression and the arts in the Turkish constitution as well as the international human rights agreements signed by Turkey where freedom of expressions is defined as an indispensable pillar of democracy. At the same time we found that stipulations with regard to ‘national security,’ Turkey’s anti-terror legislation as well as provisions concerning the public order are frequently employed to legitimize censorship and limitations of the freedom in the arts. These interventions are – for the most part – arbitrary and employed for political and ideological reasons, and often for seemingly contradictory ends. Especially the notion of societal sensitivities (toplumsal hassasiyetler) has been increasingly used to delimit freedom of arts by non-state and state actors alike. This line of reasoning has been mirrored by the Ministry of Culture and Tourism as vague conceptions of societal sensitivities along with that of “public morals” (genel ahlak) have been elevated above the state’s mandate and legally stipulated duty of supporting and protecting the arts as well as the artist.[1]
Apart from trying to raise awareness on censorship in the arts and artists’ rights, Siyah Bant has aimed to provide a platform to discuss different strategies in the fight against censorship. While legal activism has emerged as a possible field of mobilizing and organizing,[2] Siyah Bant has also pursued interviews with cultural policy officials as a way of holding the state accountable with regard to its mandate. This has also included following developments in official cultural policy over the past few years, especially as members of the ruling Justice and Development Party (Adalet ve Kalkınma Partisi, AKP) have taken an increasingly adversarial stance towards the arts. Prime Minister Erdoğan’s scathing speech about theater workers in Kahramanmaraş in May 2012[3] as elitists who mock ‘the people,’ and former Minister of the Interior, İdris Naim Şahin’s declaration of art as “the backyard of terrorism” in December 2011[4] are but two examples that have left their mark on the art world. Far from signifying mere political discourse, these interventions have paved the way for the current changes in theater funding and have drawn attention to the fact that artists who are engaged in the Kurdish rights struggle have long been charged under anti-terror legislation.
As part of our ongoing research on cultural policy practices that play a vital part in the formation of freedom of the arts and its limitations we conducted a research visit to the Ministry of Culture and Tourism in late October 2013. During this visit we had an opportunity to meet with representatives from the Department of Fine Arts, the Directorate for Cinema, the Directorate of Opera and Ballet as well as with the Directorate of Strategy Development. A meeting with the Minister of Culture and Tourism was requested but could not be scheduled, all questions that we addressed to his office with regard to new policy developments were delegated to the Directorate of Strategic Development. Overall Ministry representatives seemed hesitant to speak with us, yet agreed to our request when we stated that little to none information about the official policies of the Ministry is publicly available at the moment.
The new Minister of Culture and Tourism, Ömer Çelik, took his post on 24 January 2013. His first few months in office were marked by a striking silence on three issues in particular: the redevelopment of Taksim Square, the draft of the Turkish Arts Council law (Türkiye Sanat Kurumu, TÜSAK) that was leaked in the spring of 2013, and the discourses around funding projects that promote family values and public decency, especially in the discipline of cinema. This silence has contributed to the rumor mill running high in the art world, so much so that in November 2013 Ersin Antep asked in the daily Radikal “Will we have a Minister of Culture? (Bizim bir kültür bakanımız olacak mı?).” Antep suggested that many of the programs initiated under Çelik’s predecessor, Ertuğul Günay, had been terminated, including most of the restitution efforts for cultural artifacts that the former Minister of Culture and Tourism had pursued. Çelik has been rumored to mainly work out of the Prime Minister’s Office rather than tending to institution he is heading. The fact that no comprehensive overview over the programs carried out by the current administration has been made public has resulted in rumors running all the more rampant. Günay, had become increasingly vocal with regard to the redevelopment of Taksim (also known as the Taksim Pedestrianization Project, Taksim Yayalaştırma Projesi) – stating that the city was not in need of another shopping mall. Günay also argued that the plans for a mosque to be added on Taksim Square were ill conceived as was the reconstruction of the Ottoman Army Barracks (Topçu Kışlası) that was part of the original redevelopment plan. Being at the heart of Beyoğlu, Taksim Square encompasses the Monument to the Republic and the Atatürk Cultural Center (Atatürk Kültür Merkezi, AKM), which are both under the purview of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism.
Çelik maintained his silence for much of the debate, broken ever so briefly in his response to a parliamentary inquiry by Sezgin Tanrıkulu in June 2013 when he confirmed that during the construction in and around Taksim 16 Armenian tombstones had been found along with remnants of an 18th century wall and parts of a drainage system dating to the same time period. Çelik also noted that archeological artifacts had been found in the larger area surrounding Sıraserviler, Kazancı Yokuşu and on the Tarlabaşı side. During the Gezi protests of May-June 2013 Çelik neither took position on the plans for the redevelopment of Taksim, nor did he announce any further plans for the Atatürk Cultural Center although Prime Minister Erdoğan suggested a complete demolition of the AKM. Since mid-June of 2013 the AKM has been used by the riot police – permanently stationed upfront and using the building as a logistical center. The renovation which has left the Istanbul State Theater, Ballet and Opera without a permanent home was supposed to be concluded by 29 October 2013, but it seems that no work has been done for at least the past seven months. During our visit at the Ministry we were unable to attain any official statement about the future of the AKM. In July the First Administrative Court had already cancelled the Topçu Kışlası Project and the master plan for the redevelopment of Beyoğlu has been voided in December 2013 with the courts decision explicitly stating that the non-participatory manner with which the project was designed makes it untenable. From a cultural policy perspective the court’s decision is notable in a second respect: it explicitly diagnoses a tension between touristic commodification of urban areas and the needs and rights of the inhabitants of these areas. What these two court decisions mean for the fate of the AKM as well as the already conducted construction in and around Taksim Square remains unclear as of the writing of this report.
When in the spring of 2013 a draft of the TÜSAK (Turkish Arts Council) legislation was leaked, it further aggravated concerns that had already been raised in the previous year with the government signaling its intension to privatize the state theater system. The draft as it stands at the moment aims to restructure the entire arts funding system in Turkey by granting support on a project basis and by shifting decision-making powers to state appointed officials rather candidates representing artists’ associations from respective disciplines.
Rengim Gökmen, Director of the Department of State Opera and Ballet, like other officials we meet, was unable to relay any news about the fate of the AKM, despite the organic connection that his department has with its Istanbul counterpart. Gökmen underlined that despite recent additions to concert halls in Istanbul, such as in the Zorlu Center (a shopping mall, residence and entertainment complex), Istanbul is in dire need of a large, central opera, ballet and theater stage. Gökmen stressed that the programming of the Directorate had stayed independent since its inception and that no signs to a contrary development exist at the moment.
Gökmen noted that he had not received any official communication about the TÜSAK draft that has generated heated discussions in the art world over the past few months. However, he also pointed out that funding on a project-basis would be inappropriate for institutions that have performance seasons as well as year-round rehearsal schedules such as theater, opera and ballet. While Gökmen, like many of his colleagues from the field of theater, supports a reform of the state theater-system, he emphatically argued that any such reform needs to take into account the artistic production practices of each discipline in order to be equitable and artistically viable. Gökmen remarked that he sees great danger in delegating opera and ballet to the private sector, as a mere reliance on market rationales is detrimental to artistic autonomy and hence adversarial to the inner workings of art. Instead he suggested regular performance evaluations that would enable a “career system” within the state’s performing arts institutions, i.e. opening a path for professional advancement based on performance rather than the application of civil servants’ promotion criteria.
Gökmen expressed that within the current peace process art plays an exponent role with its capacity to create encounters and empathy. This topic came up repeatedly during our interviews with other officials as well, for instance by Directorate for the Fine Arts. Yet, these assertions tend to be rather general, although it is notable that cultural diversity and especially past cultural production by minorities is mentioned far more frequently and directly than during our visit in 2012. Asked for concrete examples, interfaith encounters and musical events are often referenced as well as a range of CDs that the Ministry of Culture and Tourism has produced focusing on the oeuvre of minority composers and lyricists. But as will be outlined in more detail in the second part of this report, these advances by the Ministry for Culture and Tourism are in stark contrast to the daily experiences of Kurdish artists and their working conditions, for instance.
Like Gökmen, Nihat Değirmenci, deputy director of the Department for Fine Arts responded that he “followed the TÜSAK debate from the press, as everyone else” and hence did not see himself able to give an assessment on the possible course of the draft and the impact it might have on the make-up of Turkey’s arts sector.
One of the most pressing issues over the past few decades has been the – to a large extent – ongoing exclusion of contemporary art from the funding and other activities from state support. While the Ministry still holds yearly competitions in painting and photography, there are no programs for visual arts in the boarder sense, no funding categories for individual artists or structural support for contemporary art institutions. Grievances over this omission have been voiced repeatedly over the past two decades, especially as contemporary art from Turkey has gained increasing international recognition. This lack is even more pronounced in the city of Ankara itself, where there is a remarkable shortage of non-commercial contemporary art spaces. Opened in 2010 the Cer Modern was to amend this lack, however, hopes tied to this space never really materialized (as was previously the case with the Çankaya Belediyesi Çağdaş Sanatlar Merkezi established in 1998[5]) as the space is managed as an event hall rented out for large-scale functions like weddings, for example, rather than a contemporary arts center. Independent arts initiatives, such as CAVA (Cinema Audio and Visual Arts) that have conducted workshops on the premises have voiced their discontent about the direction of Cer Modern or terminated their relationship to the space altogether. The Ministry, however, does not seem to share these concerns. Quite to the contrary, Cer Modern seems to be regarded as a successful model. At the same time there is an awareness that contemporary art should be included within the purview of the Ministry, but our inquiries over the past two years have been met with the reasoning that there are no legal precepts to do so at the moment. It could be argued, however, that rather than a missing legal framework it is missing practice that produces this asymmetry with regard to contemporary art.
Within the field of cinema two issues have especially come to the fore over the past two years. Firstly, the rating system that has been increasingly employed to effectively limit the circulation of certain films by enforcing harsh age limits. There is, of course, an important and valid basis to age-limit provisions in Turkey as well as internationally in order to protect minors from potentially disturbing and harmful images. Yet debates have erupted about the ways in which these provision have been used to legitimize broader infringements on the freedom of expression that surpass the protection of minors,[6] especially since this rating is tied to the eser işletme belgesi, a certificate necessary for commercial distribution. Until recently this certificate was not required when films were intended for festival use, i.e. noncommercial screenings. While legal scholar Ulaş Karan argues that this procedure is indeed in accord with official regulations, the Ministry has decided to reinterpret the distribution provisions and make them requirements for festival films as well. Cases such as the film “Berivan” or “Dersim 38” that were deemed ineligible for distribution certificates have raised concerns that political preferences rather than the protection of minors are at stake. As during our last visit our inquiries with regard to the eser işletme belgesi have been consistently deflected by insisting on framing the issue in terms of technicalities and of the protection of minors rather than political sensitivities and preferences or pluralism. In addition, the Directorate of Cinema has consistently argued that its rating procedures present a harmonization measure with European Union standards and hence a necessity arising from European co-production agreements signed by the Turkish government in the early 2000s.
Secondly, in January 2012 Cem Erkul, director of the Cinema Department, announced that funding priorities would shift to “family films,”[7] leaving question marks as to what kind of movies would qualify as such and how the respective selection criteria employed by the award committees would be formulated. During our last visit these questions were once again deflected by noting that the composition of selection committees had not changed and that along with a representative from the Directorate those of the filmmakers’ associations were still present in the selection process. Yet, it was also made clear to us that “as a social welfare state” the cultural needs of society overall, rather than ‘niche interests,’ needed to be taken into consideration. It was emphasized that the Ministry does not aim to ‘just’ fund arthouse movies but sees it as part of its duty to fund potential blockbusters as well. This understanding notably diverges from the rationale of art funding in democratic settings, where state support is intended to help exactly the kind cultural production that would otherwise not be viable. Surely much of the discussions around cutting arts funding throughout the EU has been conducted with the same rationale, i.e. that under tightening economic conditions, market viability is increasingly conceptualized as fulfilling both cultural needs and evidencing worthiness of government support. It is likewise notable that the much-mentioned increase in international interest in cinema from Turkey has centered largely on small, independent films that have garnered awards at international festivals, rather than being box office hits. Yet the Directorate seems vindicated in its general practice by pointing to the rapid increase in national film production (e.g. while there were only nine local films in the 2002 screening cycle, this number went up to 62 in 2013). The Directorate has also indicated that it wants to extent incentives for foreign film productions in Turkey, not least by co-financing such productions.
Recent news that the Ministry will retract funding from films rated suitable for age 18 and above have increased concerns in the film sector about how age restrictions might be further instrumentalized for political purposes.[8] It is very likely that this new guideline will further the precarious economic standing of independent filmmakers and engender self-censorship due to the fear of loosing much sought after public funding. This regulation will also allow the Directorate to intervene into decisions of final cuts, in order to meet age restrictions eligible for this funding, rather than making decisions based on the artistic integrity of a given work.
The Cinema Directorate stresses that they are concerned with the art of the moving image overall. However, they do not advocate on behalf of filmmakers who regularly face onslaughts on the integrity of their work through unauthorized edits of their film when sold to TV stations, be it to make room for commercials or to make movies eligible for certain time slots. At times this practice serves to circumvent age restrictions, at others to adhere to real or imagined notions of public decency, especially when it comes to content that diverges from hetero-normative presets. The Directorate relegates such responsibilities to the TV channels themselves as well as to RTÜK (Radyo ve Televizyon Üst Kurulu, the Radio and Television Supreme Council that monitors and regulates radio and television broadcasts), with the exception of age restrictions that need to be heeded by the channels.
The Office for Strategic Development (Strateji Geliştirme Başkanlığı) has recently completed the National Cultural Policy Review and has been responsible for developing new policy objectives and visions. We had a chance to meet with Mahmut Evkuran, the Director for Strategic Development. While Evkuran admitted that cultural policy objectives have not been communicated clearly by the Ministry to the general public as well as the arts community, he seemed at a loss why the TÜSAK draft has induced this amount of panic and rumors, especially since discussions about these kinds of reforms stretch back to the early 1990s. He repeatedly stated that all artists’ association will be informed and consulted and that the draft is still at an early stage. It remains unclear, however, when further amendments to the draft will be made and how such consultations, if at all, will be conducted. As in the area of cinema Evkuran stressed that examples from the EU were being evaluated in the assemblage of the TÜSAK proposal.
Asked about the striking lack of support for contemporary art which garnering increased international attention over the past 20 years has by default served as a vehicle for cultural diplomacy, Evkuran conceded that this part of the arts sector indeed was “incredibly dynamic” and that “one has to think about how to embrace this dynamism” both institutionally and legally. Rehabilitation and restoration of cultural heritage were identified as the primary goals of the Ministry. He himself seemed to define cultural diplomacy in terms of restitution of cultural artifacts to Turkey however, and was more concerned with integrating the ‘traditional arts’ within the purview of official cultural policy. While Evkuran is correct in that traditional arts have been largely left out of art history curricula in Turkey and tended to mainly by civil society and nonprofit organizations, this does not necessarily mean that this inclusion has to be conducted in lieu of funding contemporary artistic production.
When asked about the state of freedom of expression and censorship in Turkey, Evkuran emphasized many of the aspects that were part of the recent “democracy package” announced by the government in October 2013, such as restitution of the estate surrounding Mor Gabriel and the freedom to were a headscarf in public service and public institutions. He noted that other minority properties would also be returned, although he conceded that decisions would be made on a case-by-case basis. Evkuran gave much emphasis to the appropriation of certain works of Kurdish literature such as Mem û Zîn, an edition of which was printed by the Ministry in 2012, and the oeuvre of film director Yilmaz Güney. The Ministry has prepared a disk set of all his films, many of which were banned in Turkey during his lifetime. Evkuran also highlighted the Presidential Honor posthumously accorded to Ahmet Kaya; although as he himself noted this initiative was taken by President Abdullah Gül rather than the Ministry itself. Much emphasis was given to the entire protocol of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism as well as other government officials attending the Kurdish language performance of Hamlet in Ankara in November 2012. Yet Evkuran failed to point out that this production was actually performed by the Diyabakir Municipal Theater, which has staged plays in Kurdish throughout the past decade and often under threats and continual harassment by Turkish security forces. While his examples surely present steps towards acknowledging minority cultural production and heritage, a vast asymmetry between these showcases and daily practices remains (see Part II of this report). This also became clear when Evkuran pointed to the ‘legalization of the Kurdish language’ and the freedom to take on Kurdish names both on an individual basis and in the case of place names. Given the fact that education in Kurdish is still not available within the public school system, this assessment seems overly positive. This became even clearer when we asked Evkuran about the governors who banned Kurdish language events or film screenings with political content. According to Evkuran these instances mark reflexes of the “old order” of Turkey and that these kinds of asymmetries are to be expected. He also added that at times security concerns voiced by authorities might be valid.
It has become somewhat commonplace to argue amongst cultural policy officials in Turkey that the Ministry of Culture and Tourism does not actually follow changing political trends but has been on more or less the same path since its inception. Yet, the above shows that changing political discourses have actual implications for cultural policy formations. However, this is not to argue that all in the Ministry present homogeneous takes on different issues. Asked about the increasing discourses about “conservative art” (muhafazakar sanat), for example, some noted that the combination of “conservative” and “art” presents a misnomer as art per definition is progressive and thus responsible for pushing existing boundaries and exploring new grounds. Many admitted that these kinds of questions may very well be an issue of politics, but less for artistic practice and production; although it was also noted that these and other topics should be open to discussion. The same holds true for the much-used notion of ‘societal sensitivities.’ Some acknowledged that such possible sensitivities needed taken into account, but emphasized that they did not feel restricted in the programming of their departments and stressed the pioneering character of art as opening up new, hitherto unexplored spaces.
When asked about the critique of the elitism of the artistic establishment and especially the state theater system that has been launched by the governing AKP over the past few years, it was often noted that politicians were free to express admiration or discontent with the state of the arts or certain artworks. A common argument was that these kinds of reactions should be read as a sign that art is noticed and noticeable, and hence a positive sign in itself.
Apart from the structural issues that arise from subsuming culture and tourism, and hence two policy areas that have quite different goal orientations, as many in the Ministry too admit, under the same administrative unit, the Ministry till fails to exhibit an active advocacy for artists as is required by Articles 27 and 64 of the Constitution. Together these articles not only guarantee freedom of expression in the arts but also hold the state responsible in supporting the arts and artists. There also remains a disconnect between the ideals of cultural policy in liberal democracies and practices in the Turkish context emerged in officials’ disconcertedness about artists who are in the state theater system, but vocal about criticizing the government, as for instance, during the recent Gezi protests. While this is surely a contentious issue everywhere, receiving government fund should not foreclose the possibility of critiquing government policies.
[1] See Banu Karaca, “When Duty Calls…: Questions of Sensitivity and Responsibility in Light of the Tophane Events,” Red Thread e-journal (November 2011); Siyahbant (Istanbul, 2012) and Siyahbant, Sanatta İfade Özgürlüğü, Sansür ve Hukuk (Istanbul, 2013)
[2] Siyahbant, Sanatta İfade Özgürlüğü, Sansür ve Hukuk (Istanbul, 2013).
[3] Siyahbant, “Başbakan Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’ın Kahramanmaraş Mitingi konusması” (Istanbul, 2012), 52-53.
[4] Siyahbant, “Sevgili İçişleri Bakanımız, ne diyorsak tersinden anlayınız!” (Istanbul, 2012), 50-51.
[5] Beral Madra, “Ankara çağdaş sanata çok uzak,” Radikal Online, 23 May 2009; Ferhat Özgür, “Anakara’da tarihi bir firsat,” Radikal Online, 30 May 2009
[6] Majorie Heins, Not in Front of the Children: “Indecency,” Censorship, and the Innocence of Youth (New York: Hill and Wang, 2001).
[7] See “‘Malkoçoğlu desteğine’ sinemacı kazan kaldırdı”, Radikal Online, 22 January 2012
[8] “Tiyatrodan sonra sinemaya da ahlak kriteri geldi,” Radikal Online, 25 December 2013
This report on the effects of cultural policy and its effects on freedom of the arts was conducted by Siyah Bant with the support of the Friedrich Ebert Foundation. It is reproduced here with permission.
This article was posted on February 13, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
12 Feb 2014 | Digital Freedom, News and features, Turkey
Riot police in Istanbul use water cannons on protesters against the amendments to internet law 5651 (Image: Bulent Selcuk/Demotix)
The specifics regarding website censorship and data gathering in the controversial, recently approved amendments to Turkey’s internet law remain murky. The updated bill 5651, which adds restrictions on internet users’ freedom of expression, and now only hinges on President Abdullah Gül signing it into effect, has been widely criticised.
Opponents protesting the amendments this past Saturday in Istanbul were met with water cannons and tear gas, mirroring a similar police reaction to anti-censorship demonstrations in mid-January. The changes to the law were first proposed last December, just one day after the unraveling of an ongoing corruption scandal that has embroiled Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan and his AK Party. Opponents say increased censorship aims to harness criticism of government and prevent the spread of leaked recordings about corruption. The Republican People’s Party (CHP), Turkey’s leading opposition party, published a report warning that the new powers given to the Directorate of Telecommunication (TİB) to decide on website bans would allow the government to block and censor websites at will. “Possession of such authoritarian power doesn’t exist in democratic countries,” it says. “It’s a very familiar pattern to us of putting law through very fast without consultation, without enough expert opinion, without enough consideration,” said Emma Sinclair-Webb, a senior researcher on Turkey at Human Rights Watch.
The amendments mean judicial orders are no longer necessary for a ban to be carried out. TİB can ban websites within hours and without giving notice, which could mask the censorship to internet users. Furthermore, websites can be blocked based on URL addresses. Because this would allow offensive content on a website to be blocked while its other pages remain active, supporters of the law claim that URL-based bans are a liberal alternative to larger scale censorship.
However, the move to URL-based website blocking may further threaten media in Turkey, says Elif Akgül, freedom of expression editor for the independent news website Bianet. A number of mainstream Turkish news outlets owned by conglomerates close to the government have notably been affected by censorship in recent years. Although also subject to website blocking, smaller, independent news platforms have often been swayed less by direct government pressure. “If you’re a journalist and work in mainstream media, if you can’t publish something, you can publish it on a blog so people can read it,” Akgül said. With URL-based website bans that go into effect without any notification, alternative sources for information, like blog posts or articles on independent news sites like Bianet, may disappear suddenly if they’re considered offensive.
When leaked recordings led to Vimeo and SoundCloud being shut down temporarily in January, a court order was displayed on the sites. Most recently, a string of wiretapped phone conversations implicating corrupt business agreements and government meddling in mainstream media have surfaced on websites like SoundCloud, Vimeo and YouTube and spread through social media before the sites could be shut down. URL-based blocking may see recordings like these disappear, with no explanatory court order left in its place. Critics see the timing of the approved amendments amidst these leaks as motivated by the present government’s interest in controlling information in an election year. “Against the background of these phone calls, telling the press what to do, we’re seeing a very interventionist government that wants to control the masses,” said Sinclair-Webb.
The amended law would also make service providers store users’ internet activity records for two years. Service providers would have to forward any user information to government agencies upon request, although without informing users. An added element of the law’s ambiguity is its vague definition of service providers. Providers can mean internet service providers (ISPs) or small companies that host websites, says Berhan Soylu, an executive board member of the Chamber of Computer Engineers of Turkey. Critics argue that service providers will be forced to use deep package inspection (DPI) to collect data, which could affect internet quality. “Only some service providers have that technology for DPI because it’s a very hard thing to do and a very expensive thing. Some small companies can’t make this happen and they will have to close,” Soylu said. “After that, internet bills may increase. And internet quality, internet speed may decrease.”
Critics of the law say the use of deep package inspection to collect data will make internet users vulnerable to surveillance. For journalists, especially those working on topics the government may see as threatening, increased surveillance means they have to protect their own internet activity and communication with sources to avoid legal threats, says Akgül. “It’s going to be more difficult for us as journalists because our internet activity is going to be more dangerous to ourselves, to our sources. We have to find more secret ways,” she said.
This article was published on February 12, 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
11 Feb 2014 | News and features, Turkey
This is the third part of a series of conversations with Turkish playwright and author Meltem Arikan about her play Mi Minor and her experiences during the Gezi Park demonstrations.
Julian Farrington, head of arts programmes at Index on Censorship spoke to Arikan about how this government-orchestrated terror campaign was to change her life.
On 2 June Arikan – with her friends Pinar Ogun, Memet Ali Alabora and Melin Edomwonyi — struggled through the massive crowds of demonstrators on the streets of Istanbul, reaching her home around two in the afternoon. The peaceful Gezi Park demonstrations had turned violent.
There had been clashes between the protesters and the police during the night. The previous day they had been among a group of artists who they had gathered together to broadcast a message to the governor from Taksim Square. They called for him to end the excessive police response and use of tear gas on peaceful protesters.
On the evening of 2 June, the Turkish authorities would start naming and blaming in an attempt to explain this eruption of anti-government protest. As the finger pointing evolved into a hate campaign, Arikan and the artistic team behind her play Mi Minor were among those targeted.
Index: How long after the play finished did the Gezi Park protests start?
Arikan: Mi Minor was staged in Istanbul from 1 December 2012 to 14 April 2013. The play was performed 23 times, more than 10,000 people attended. Gezi Park protests started on 27 May.
Index: What was the reaction to the play?
Arikan: Mainstream media showed great interest in Mi Minor. Before and during the performances Memet Ali Alabora, director and lead actor, and Pinar Ogun, the lead actress, were interviewed and hosted by nearly all major TV channels, newspapers and magazines. After only 5 performances, Mi Minor was named Radikal Newspaper’s Best Play of the Year by readers.
At first the audience was not interacting much with the play. The first remarkable reaction was a woman throwing her shoe at the Pinima president. However, when young people started joining and interacting with the play, the perception of the overall audience and their involvement changed. When young people figured out that there was more than one game to be played in our play, they started responding to Mi Minor in such smart, humorous and joyful ways.
We also had great responses on social media all around Turkey as well as other countries — Netherlands, France, USA, Canada, Egypt, Australia and more. The play became a trending topic four times during the performances in Turkey.
In time, we started to have fans who would come to the play or join online every week and plan their own little games. For example one of the digital actors abroad came up with the idea of Pinileaks on the internet during each performance about the Pinima president. A group of online audience members, who were following the play online, got organised and came to Istanbul. There were also friends who got very excited about the play and came from abroad to see it. The play had the Marmite effect: Some loved it. some hated it. There have been many reviews about the play by Turkish and international critics, including Liberté info, Paulanow and Archetypeinaction.
Index: Were there any other awards or plaudits?
Arikan: Students of Galatasaray University awarded Memet Ali Alabora as best actor. Pinar Ogun was nominated for best actress. I was nominated for the best playwright in the Lions Theatre Awards. The play was named the Best Play of the Year by the Karvak Awards, which we refused to receive as I mentioned in the previous article.
Index: Did the government make any comments or have any reaction to it?
Arikan: There weren’t any comments or reactions from the government during the period when the play was being performed.
Index: I know you were uneasy about how it might be received by authorities. How did you feel it went?
Arikan: We took a great deal of care to make sure that our made-up country Pinima didn’t relate to any specific government, including Turkey. I observed that some of the audience felt uncomfortable when the Pianist was taking their pictures or interviewing them on Ustream. I believe this is mostly because people were afraid to be seen as opposing power, even though Pinima was a fictional country. After each performance many people said to us that we were very brave and asked us to be careful.
Index: So now, let’s go to the moment on June 2 when you got back to your house after the artists made the statement condemning police violence. What was your mood when you closed your front door?
Arikan: We were tired, angry and confused when we got home. I can say that we got more worried as the events got more violent. It was so painful to see young people lose their lives knowing it all started off to protect trees. We were trying to keep our nerves together as we followed the events on Twitter.
Index: When was the first time you heard that you and your friends were being named as the architects of the Gezi Park uprising?
Arikan: On 1 June, the first accusation was made against my close friend and the director of Mi Minor, Memet Ali Alabora, by members of the ruling party, claiming that Gezi protests were attempts to establish the grounds for a coup and his tweet, which would become so famous, was shown as evidence:
“It’s not just a matter of Gezi Park, haven’t you realised yet? Come join. #resistgezipark”
It was shocking to see how politicians could show such a simple tweet as an evidence for such a huge claim. All Memet Ali did was to attend the protests during the first three days and use twitter to express himself. It was hard to believe how he was being singled out and targeted.
As I said in the previous article, I tried to explain what happened in the first three days of Gezi Park protests. From the second night onwards, the protest that started about trees attracted thousands of people who were coming to the park to give voice to a whole range of issues that they were concerned about. There were political activists, environmentalists; even Turkish Airlines staff, who were out on strike at the time joined the demonstrations. And on 30 May the day Memet Ali sent his tweet, there were people holding up banners about protecting the environment, the demolition of the Emek Theatre, destruction of forests and rivers and government interference in personal lifestyles. Memet Ali’s intention was to report what he saw happening, as he stated in his press conference after the accusations of Yeni Şafak Newspaper:
“I went to Gezi Park on 28 May to protect the trees and the culture of Istanbul. After continuous police violence, the protest turned against the force used to suppress freedom of expression. People who gathered there started to express themselves on matters they were not able to express before. This was also the case for me. For me, as well as Gezi Park, I wanted to express my concerns about a whole range of issues I saw happening in the city: the demolition of Emek Theatre, the change in Istanbul City Theatre’s regulation, State Theatres that were being closed down, the green fields being destroyed on the Asian side of Istanbul, the old central station to be made a commercial building. I meant all these when I tweeted ‘it’s not just a matter of Gezi Park’.”
After 1 June, a campaign was launched by government officials, politicians, pro-government media and their social media supporters claiming that the Gezi Park protests were an international conspiracy, with links to business, arts and NGOs. Businessmen, artists, executives of many NGOs, sportsmen, journalists and many others started to be targeted as part of this conspiracy. First Memet Ali, then Mi Minor and all related to the play, were one of the main focuses of this campaign.
Memet Ali attended a news programme a couple of days later; during the programme President of AKP (Turkey’s ruling Justice and Development Party) Istanbul Party Organization almost threatened him via twitter:
“Memet Ali and his allies/friends/ will be “overturned” [referring Memet Ali’s surname “Alabora” as it literally means “overturn”], and our brotherhood will win”
On 10 June, the pro-government newspaper Yeni Şafak came out with the headline, “What A Coincidence”, accusing Mi Minor as being the rehearsal for the protests, six months in advance. The subheadline said that “New information has come to light to show that the Gezi Park protests were an attempted civil coup” and continued claiming that “the protests were rehearsed months before in the play called ‘Mi Minor’ staged in Istanbul”.
After Yeni Şafak’s headline, the mayor of Ankara, started to make programmes on TV specifically about Mi Minor, also mentioning my name. A news channel called A Haber ran a story about the graphic designer of the play, accusing her of being one of the masterminds of the social media behind the protests. They announced her full name and twitter account, giving false reports on her. She later lost her job as a consequence.
Index: The newspaper was making a direct connection between your play Mi Minor and the demonstrations. How did they justify, support this claim?
Arikan: As I mentioned before, a smear campaign had already been launched. Any news by pro-government media were built on the premise that Gezi Park protests didn’t start as protection of trees but as an international conspiracy by the secret powers and the interest lobby against the emergence of a new Turkey.
This introduction to the article in the pro-government paper Yeni Şafak’s is an example of this conviction:
“The Gezi Park protests that started off with claims about cutting trees and which suddenly grew into a campaign calling for the government to resign, with false news on social media has come into its 14th day. New information on events has revealed they were an attempt to develop into an international operation with the support of the interest lobby, and throws a new light on the supposed innocence of the Gezi Park protests. There have been precise rehearsals of the Gezi events in the play ‘Mi Minor’ which was staged between 1st of December 2012 – 14th of April 2013.”
By projecting Memet Ali as someone “who has drawn attention with his provocative public tweets ever since the first day of the protests”, the newspaper tried to link his popular tweet with the play. In Mi Minor we used gourds in our fictional country Pinima, as a nonsensical export which was supposed to drive the economy. We were very cautious when choosing the symbols used in the play in order to create a unique country. Referring to the AKP’s use of a light bulb as their party symbol, the newspaper claimed that we were “targeting AK Party by using symbols that resemble the AKP symbol”. They presented the unique theatre style of Mi Minor as training for young people, teaching, “how people should revolt and how they can organise their revolution on social media”.
For the newspaper, Memet Ali’s participation in the protests, the gourds, the way social media was used in both the play and the protests, the portrayal of a dictator president in the play and the opportunity that the play gave for the audience to oppose to the President was enough to justify its attack.
“The play “Mi Minor” proves that the Gezi Park protests, which was turned into a campaign to overthrow the government, were being staged on another medium before the actual protests started.”
Index: They claimed that you were part of a conspiracy, funded by foreign governments – can you tell us more about this?
Arikan: Once the premise of the conspiracy was established, any figure who somehow participated in the protests would always be linked to it, and thus to the foreign governments. On one of his programs the mayor of Ankara claimed, without proof, that Mi Minor was funded from abroad.
Ten days after their news on Mi Minor, Yeni Şafak featured another story, presenting Memet Ali’s holiday visits to the Red Sea and London as if they were preparations for Gezi protests. On various TV programs, websites and online forums Mi Minor or my name were being linked to secret international powers. Presentations were made to district organisations of the AK ruling party, explaining how Mi Minor was part of the international conspiracy.
There were so many groundless accusations that it is impossible to remember them all.
Index: You decided to lie low and stay in the house. What was it like in the house? Who was there? What was the atmosphere?
Arikan: Even now, I don’t want to remember what I went through during those days. We were extremely distressed. We were receiving hundreds of threats and accusations almost every minute via social media. We found it really difficult to believe what we were reading when we saw the news about Mi Minor. Even though most of the media covered Memet Ali’s press conference, it didn’t stop the accusations. The accusations were then carried on to TV. Mi Minor was being discussed on various TV channels at least twice a week. Pinar and I started to use anti-depressant pills during this period because it was impossible to understand and cope with what was going on. I wasn’t just worried for myself but also for the people I love.
Index: The protests continued until long after you closed your front door. Did the police make any arrests in the days following the protests? Given what was being written about you, did you expect they would arrest you?
Arikan: There were ongoing arrests at the time. We were prepared for every possibility. We knew it was also possible we would be arrested. It was nerve wracking to live with such uncertainty. There were continuous threats and accusations. All this was happening because I created a play and attended a peaceful protest to protect trees.
Sadly, this was just a beginning for us. While the demonstrations were happening at Taksim and Gezi Park, the prime minister held several rallies. During his speeches at two consecutive rallies in Ankara and Istanbul, he read Memet Ali’s tweet to his supporters and made the crowd boo Memet Ali. Pinar and I were watching the prime minister’s speech live on TV. Pinar was shaking with fear and shock, she was repeatedly asking “why?” We were not sleeping. We were not talking with anyone outside the house or on the phone.
Several complaints were submitted to the prosecutors about Memet Ali. They sued him for encouraging a crime showing his tweet as evidence. Prosecutors eventually dropped all charges, though the last one was only dropped in January 2014.
It wasn’t the arrests we were afraid of. We feared for our lives. The days were hard to follow. We lost track of time. We were numb, timeless, sleepless and speechless. I don’t like to remember those days we had to spend at home.
Index: After a while of this attack on Memet Ali and others, the mayor of Ankara launched his personal campaign against you. Why do you think he got so heated? Was there a particular political motive for his attacks?
Arikan: My nervous system had already been broken by the time I saw that one of the many programs on Mi Minor was now focusing on me. They were showing an edited version of one of my speeches that I made six years ago about secularism. It was edited in such a way that I came across as an anti-Muslim agitator. What I found so brutal about this was the fact that they were using religion to provoke people against me. Religion has always been one of the most sensitive subjects in Turkey. What upset me most was the fear I witnessed in my son’s eyes and the anxiety that my partner was living through.
I find it dreadful for a politician to be able to play with people’s lives so easily. I don’t know what his political motive was. But I do know very well that these motivations do not include any humanitarian sensibility or responsibility. In responses to all these accusations, I wrote a confession for my column in Kazete, which was subsequently shared on many websites and through social media.
“I’M GUILTY I CONFESS
I’m guilty; as a woman writer, for years I’ve been rejecting the male dominated system and for the last couple of years I’ve been trying to understand and express what’s been happening during the transition period from the analogue world to the digital world.
I confess; two and a half years ago, using my intellect and my imagination, I wrote a play called “Mi Minor”. Our play was performed 23 times in 3 different venues with the permission of Governorship of Istanbul for each venue. My imagination fails me when I try to understand those who accuse us of rehearsing the Gezi Park events before it has started, provoking all that is currently happening in our country; linking us to various foreign organizations and part of an fantastical conspiracy theory relating to all these lies – even though they haven’t seen our play.
I’m guilty; I know that for thousands of years the culture of fear has been creating ‘the other’ through race and religious differences and has been making up rational reasons for wars by imposing hate and violence. I say ENOUGH to the analogue world order imposed by the male dominated system based on culture of fear, which is the one and only common culture of all societies in the world and which has been forced upon all societies, for thousands of years.
I confess; culture shall not be attributed to any society or any race. Culture is formed through the results of women and men’s existence(s) affecting each other and their interactions with nature. When defining cultural differences, the analogue world order has always disregarded the differences between men and women’s lives, which forms the foundation of all cultures. It’s women and men that create cultures and civilizations. It is a big mistake to restrict the parameters of cultural formation just with race, religion, geography and traditions, seperated from the existence of women and men.
I believe the new digital order will be constructed by accepting that societies are formed by women and men without prioritising race, religion, language and sexual differences.
I’m guilty; I believe in freedom of thought and freedom of expression by getting away from the pressures of all ideologies, political statements, military or civilian coups.
I confess; I want to think and live freely by moving away from the thought patterns that have been imposed by the patriarchal system for thousands of years.
I’m guilty; I know that the only reason of running away from reality, deflecting reality, creating ‘the other’ is fear.
I confess; I will not be frightened and to become ‘the other’.”
Index: Can you describe the nature of the campaign and how it was manipulating the public?
Arikan: On YouTube everyday different users uploaded the video made about me, which was presented by the mayor of Ankara on his son’s TV channel. Discussions and comments about me started to be made on digital forums and blogs during his campaign, referencing the banning of my book in 2004. I received hundreds of rape and life threatening emails and tweets as a result of this campaign.
Index: At what point did you start getting frightened for your safety?
Arikan: I started to get really angry because — as a woman writer supporting secularism — I have been pointed to as a threat to Islamic faith and destructor of the Turkish family order, over and over on TV and social media. Such accusations against any woman, is a threat on her life. However, I was never frightened for losing my own life, I still stand for everything I said, my fear was firstly for the security of my son and the people I love.
On 24 June newspapers carried very frightening news. A Islamist journalist claimed that he had heard that there was a contract out to kill Memet Ali. He didn’t mention any names or any organisations. This was when we really started to worry about our lives.
Index: From 1 June until the time you left the country, you did not feel safe to go out and for the most part, friends brought food and things you needed. But you did go out once. What happened?
Arikan: Pinar and I had to go to the bank one day, since the bank is very close to where we live, we didn’t see any harm in driving there. But when we came back out from the bank we found the words “YOU ARE DEAD” written on the car. This of course upset us all very much. And just a few days after, I saw that mayor of Ankara’s son was tweeting about me for hours.
The selected sentences he chose to tweet about were all excerpts from my research publication called ‘The Body Knows’. He was clearly provoking people against me with false accusations and manipulating what I had written. Those tweets were the last straw.
I realised that we were surrounded, imprisoned in our own home and prevented from expressing ourselves freely.
I decided to leave to build a new life with my son, leaving everything else behind in order to express my thoughts freely.
This article was posted on February 11 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
7 Feb 2014 | Europe and Central Asia, News and features, Russia
(Image: Gonçalo Silva/Demotix)
The Sochi Winter Olympics opening ceremony is taking place today, and organisers have declared that a record 65 world leaders are attending. But numbers alone don’t tell the whole story. As it turns out, some of the biggest names in global politics will not be in the stands cheer on their athletes as the games are officially kick off. Indeed, quite a few won’t be taking the trip to Sochi at all. Barack Obama is sending a delegation including openly gay figure skater Brian Boitano in his place, and Angela Merkel, David Cameron and Francois Hollande are also staying away.
But while the International Olympic Committee’s Thomas Bach was less than impressed by the apparent boycott, labelling it an “ostentatious gesture” that “costs nothing but makes international headlines”, the absence of the big guns does give the lesser-known world leaders a chance to shine. Not all guests have been confirmed, but we’ve got the low-down on some of the the leaders the cameras might pan to during today’s festivities, or who could be spotted in the slopes over the coming weeks.
Alexander Lukashenko
(Image: Ivan Uralsky/Demotix)
Putin’s long time colleague and fellow ice hockey enthusiast surely wouldn’t miss the Winter Olympics for the world. The Belarusian president is known as “the last dictator in Europe”, his near 20 years in power having passed without a single free and fair election. Under his leadership, peaceful protests have been violently dispersed, and civil society activists and political opposition — including rival candidates from the 2010 presidential elections — have been jailed. A brand new report from Index also concludes that: “Belarus continues to have one of the most restrictive and hostile media environments in Europe.”
Recep Tayyip Erdoğan
(Image: Philip Janek / Demotix)
The Turkish president made global headlines last summer, over his regime’s violent crackdown on the peaceful Gezi park demonstrations. Rather than accepting the protests were a manifestation of genuine grievances by his people, he blamed “foreign hands” and their “domestic collaborators” like many a less-than-democratic leader before him. His government was recently implicated in a big corruption scandal, and only yesterday, parliament approved controversial amendments to the country’s internet law. The new law, opposed by civil society, the opposition and international organisations alike, gives the government wide-reaching powers over the internet, effectively allowing them to block websites without court rulings, and gives them access to user data.
Viktor Yanukovych
(Image: Oleksandr Nazarov/Demotix)
The Ukrainian president’s failure to sign a treaty securing closer ties with the EU in November, sparked the country’s ongoing Euromaidan protests. The authorities response was heavy handed — police clashed with demonstrators and journalist were targeted, leading to international condemnation. They authorities even briefly implemented a highly repressive new law, among other things allowing security services to monitor the internet, and defining NGOs receiving funding from abroad as “foreign agents”. The law was, however, scrapped only days later following outrage from civil society. Meanwhile,Ukraine’s Prime Minister and government also stepped down, while Yanukovych took four days off ill. He’s back in the office now — just in time head to Sochi for a much-hyped meeting with Putin.
Nursultan Nazarbayev
(Image: Vladimir Tretyakov/Demotix)
Kazakhstan’s president has been in power since 1991, and during that time, allegations of human rights abuses, including attacks on demonstrators and independent media, as well as widespread corruption have been regularly levelled at him. In 2012, following clashed between the police and striking workers, the president, who already effectively controls the legislature and the judiciary, further extended his emergency powers. But Putin wouldn’t even be his only high-flying friend. In September, Kanye West performed at his grandson’s wedding. The reported price tag? $3 million. Did I mention the accusations of corruption? Meanwhile, former British prime minister Tony Blair spent two years advising Nazarbayev and his government on democracy and good governance — a deal which “produced no change for the better or advance of democratic rights in the authoritarian nation”.
Emomali Rahmon
(Image: Riccardo Valsecchi/Demotix)
He has been the head of the government of Tajikistan since 1992, and was in power during the country’s civil war, where 100,000 people lost their lives. Allegations of human rights abuses, including torture by security forces and arbitrary arrests, are widespread. Much of the media is state-controlled, and independent journalists face violence and intimidation. “Publicly insulting the president” can see you jailed for as long as five years. Recently, a prominent member of the opposition, Zaid Saidov, was sentenced to 26 years in prison following what has been described as a “politically motivated trial”. In Sochi, he is set to meet with not only Putin, but also Chinese leader Xi Jinping.
This article was posted on February 7 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
