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SPOTLIGHT: TOUCHING THE NERVE OF TURKISHNESS
By Vincent Boland
FT
July 20 2007 17:20
In Istanbul on Sunday, in the splendid surroundings of the Ottoman-era
Dolmabahce Palace on the European shore of the Bosphorus, three
people who have done their bit for freedom of expression in Turkey
will receive a small but important acknowledgement. They will receive
the Turkish Journalists' Association's annual press freedom prize. It
is a ceremony that coincides with a critical moment in the country's
continuing battle for and with free speech.
At first glance, the Turkish media seems to be as free, colourful,
irreverent, partisan, corporate-dominated, and occasionally
irresponsible as its British counterpart. Newsstands groan under
the weight of available titles. All-news TV channels proliferate,
offering a nationwide forum for an informative debate during the
general election campaign of the past few weeks. Facts can sometimes be
hard to find in this free-for-all, but there is no shortage of opinion.
Then there is Article 301 of Turkey's penal code, which changes
the terms of the debate about freedom of expression. This article,
slipped into a revision of the fascist-era code three years ago while
the European Union was looking the other way, aspires to protect
the concept of "Turkishness" - the essence of the republic, its
institutions and its accepted historical narratives - from criticism
or denigration. In practice, this means that any critical questioning
of sensitive historical issues, from Armenia to Cyprus to the Kurds,
can lead to the writer's prosecution.
The article has been used most assiduously by a group of nationalist
lawyers to prosecute writers, journalists and commentators whose
books, views or articles touched some reactionary nerve or other. This
group makes no apologies for rushing to court at the merest hint of
a slighting of the nation, as if Turkey were a delicate girl whose
honour needed protecting at all costs. Although Turkey has many of the
outward trappings of a liberal democracy, its governing institutions
are steeped in authoritarianism. They have little truck with those
whose patriotism they would question.
Kemal Kerincsiz, chairman of the jurists' union that has brought most
of the prosecutions, says: "Some countries can survive without this
type of law, but Turkey cannot. It is vital to protect the Turkish
nation if it is to remain standing." Turkey's original penal code in
effect prohibited everything that was not specifically authorised. The
revised version has remnants of this thinking, which is why Article
301 seems to fit so snugly into it.
Most of the cases brought under Article 301 have failed, but not before
the defendants have gone to the expense and trouble of putting up a
defence against such a slippery charge. The recipients of tomorrow's
award, a citation that has been given since 1989, are not the only
people to have had to endure this painful and degrading process,
but they are among the most prominent and admired. They are being
given the award "in the name of all journalists and writers who have
suffered under Article 301".
One of the recipients is Ragip Zarakolu, one of Turkey's leading
publishers and the frequent target of prosecutions and attacks by
the far right. His firm, Belge, has published historical books that
enrage die-hard nationalists - especially on the painful subject of
Armenia and the mass murder of Ottoman Armenians in the last days of
the empire. Another is Gulcin Cayligil, a prominent lawyer who has
defended many journalists facing prosecution under the article.
The third recipient will be present only in spirit. Hrant Dink,
the Turkish-Armenian publisher of Agos, a weekly newspaper in the
Turkish and Armenian languages, was murdered in January on an Istanbul
street. He had been a pioneer in urging Turkey to come to terms with
the mass murder of Armenians during the last days of the Ottoman
Empire. A 17-year-old boy is on trial for his murder and has cited
Dink's opinions and comments, as reported on nationalist websites,
as a motive.
The measure remains on the statute book in spite of condemnation from
bodies such as the EU, which Turkey is hoping to join, and Amnesty
International, and in spite of an occasional half-hearted promise
from the outgoing government that it might amend it. So Turkey's
commitment to freedom of expression will always be less than it seems,
critics and victims of the article say. As Orhan Erinc, chairman of
the committee that chose this year's winners, says: "The fact we keep
having to give this prize is proof that, despite what the politicians
say, freedom of expression is still not guaranteed in Turkey."
By Vincent Boland
FT
July 20 2007 17:20
In Istanbul on Sunday, in the splendid surroundings of the Ottoman-era
Dolmabahce Palace on the European shore of the Bosphorus, three
people who have done their bit for freedom of expression in Turkey
will receive a small but important acknowledgement. They will receive
the Turkish Journalists' Association's annual press freedom prize. It
is a ceremony that coincides with a critical moment in the country's
continuing battle for and with free speech.
At first glance, the Turkish media seems to be as free, colourful,
irreverent, partisan, corporate-dominated, and occasionally
irresponsible as its British counterpart. Newsstands groan under
the weight of available titles. All-news TV channels proliferate,
offering a nationwide forum for an informative debate during the
general election campaign of the past few weeks. Facts can sometimes be
hard to find in this free-for-all, but there is no shortage of opinion.
Then there is Article 301 of Turkey's penal code, which changes
the terms of the debate about freedom of expression. This article,
slipped into a revision of the fascist-era code three years ago while
the European Union was looking the other way, aspires to protect
the concept of "Turkishness" - the essence of the republic, its
institutions and its accepted historical narratives - from criticism
or denigration. In practice, this means that any critical questioning
of sensitive historical issues, from Armenia to Cyprus to the Kurds,
can lead to the writer's prosecution.
The article has been used most assiduously by a group of nationalist
lawyers to prosecute writers, journalists and commentators whose
books, views or articles touched some reactionary nerve or other. This
group makes no apologies for rushing to court at the merest hint of
a slighting of the nation, as if Turkey were a delicate girl whose
honour needed protecting at all costs. Although Turkey has many of the
outward trappings of a liberal democracy, its governing institutions
are steeped in authoritarianism. They have little truck with those
whose patriotism they would question.
Kemal Kerincsiz, chairman of the jurists' union that has brought most
of the prosecutions, says: "Some countries can survive without this
type of law, but Turkey cannot. It is vital to protect the Turkish
nation if it is to remain standing." Turkey's original penal code in
effect prohibited everything that was not specifically authorised. The
revised version has remnants of this thinking, which is why Article
301 seems to fit so snugly into it.
Most of the cases brought under Article 301 have failed, but not before
the defendants have gone to the expense and trouble of putting up a
defence against such a slippery charge. The recipients of tomorrow's
award, a citation that has been given since 1989, are not the only
people to have had to endure this painful and degrading process,
but they are among the most prominent and admired. They are being
given the award "in the name of all journalists and writers who have
suffered under Article 301".
One of the recipients is Ragip Zarakolu, one of Turkey's leading
publishers and the frequent target of prosecutions and attacks by
the far right. His firm, Belge, has published historical books that
enrage die-hard nationalists - especially on the painful subject of
Armenia and the mass murder of Ottoman Armenians in the last days of
the empire. Another is Gulcin Cayligil, a prominent lawyer who has
defended many journalists facing prosecution under the article.
The third recipient will be present only in spirit. Hrant Dink,
the Turkish-Armenian publisher of Agos, a weekly newspaper in the
Turkish and Armenian languages, was murdered in January on an Istanbul
street. He had been a pioneer in urging Turkey to come to terms with
the mass murder of Armenians during the last days of the Ottoman
Empire. A 17-year-old boy is on trial for his murder and has cited
Dink's opinions and comments, as reported on nationalist websites,
as a motive.
The measure remains on the statute book in spite of condemnation from
bodies such as the EU, which Turkey is hoping to join, and Amnesty
International, and in spite of an occasional half-hearted promise
from the outgoing government that it might amend it. So Turkey's
commitment to freedom of expression will always be less than it seems,
critics and victims of the article say. As Orhan Erinc, chairman of
the committee that chose this year's winners, says: "The fact we keep
having to give this prize is proof that, despite what the politicians
say, freedom of expression is still not guaranteed in Turkey."