A genocide denied
In the 21st century, Turkish society will no longer be able to afford this
rotten foundation of repression and crude historical falsification if it
wants to be invited into the circle of Europeans. The Turks cannot demand
that others come to terms with their histories when they themselves are only
willing to believe in a version they invented, says Zafer Senocak.
Signandsight.com (Arts, Essays, Ideas from Germany)
2005-05-10
By Zafer Senocak
In the aftermath of the Second World War, the Germans not only stood before
the ruins of their fragmented country. They also, in the light of the crimes
committed under National Socialist rule, stood before moral ruin and the
question of guilt, which after a relatively short phase of repression, led
to unprecedented historical scrutiny.
But what happens when instead of a culture of remembering, a culture of
repression and denial is established? How can two societies, one at home in
the culture of memory and the other in the culture of repression, come to
terms with one another.
The current debate surrounding the Armenian victims of Turkish deportation
and extermination in 1915 reflects the impossibility of this sort of
understanding. Many Turkish public figures and associations in Germany react
to the accusations of genocide with old patterns of repression that are so
thoroughly internalised that to abandon them would be like abandoning one's
very self.
This is no starting point, either for a dialogue with German society, which
is discussing this problematic chapter of Turkish history ever more openly,
or for the families of the victims who for decades have been seeking
recognition for their suffering.
This fact alone is monstrous enough. Imagine this for a moment: Your own
family is driven from its home, and in the process most of them lose their
lives, are massacred in cold blood. But the survivors and their children
then have to spend decades trying to bring the rest of the world, not to
mention the perpetrator nation, to recognise the suffering and injustice
inflicted on them. The accusation from the Turkish side that the Armenian
diaspora has purely nationalist motivations is downright shameless, given
that the Turkish establishment refuses to even lift a finger in
acknowledgement of these people and their personal histories.
Acknowledgement can neither be replaced by a public discussion of the events
in Anatolia, nor by parliamentary debate, and certainly not by an
international dispute between historians. The very fact that people are
calling for historians to debate the issue reveals coldness and distance,
which is part of the problem, not the solution. The archives are open, they
say, as if historical truth could be accessed solely through archives.
Historical truth is not a physical quantity that can be measured with a
mathematical formula. It is hidden in the memories of every individual
person. If these memories are subjected to a permanent process of
repression, there is no truth, only lies and falsification.
In the 21st century, Turkish society will no longer be able to afford this
rotten foundation of repression and crude historical falsification if it
wants to be invited into the circle of Europeans. The Turks cannot demand
that others come to terms with their histories when they themselves are only
willing to believe in a version they invented.
But virtually everything that has come out of the Turkish media in Germany
in recent weeks bodes ill. Instead of a serious debate on the issue, they
are concerned with capitalising on Armenia's history of suffering because it
is ideally suited to exploit Turkish nationalist feeling. But when this
takes place in Germany, it is not only dangerous but unbearable.
The defamation of critical voices by these press organs has by now lost all
journalistic sense and assumed the dimensions of a campaign. Once again it
is becoming clear that the majority of Turkish politicians and their lackeys
are utterly indifferent to the real concerns of Turks abroad. They view them
as a mass that can be manoeuvred to serve their own ends, however stable
they are. They see them as peasant victims, who can be shifted back and
forth, and abandoned at any point. The nationalistically-charged mass seems
to consent to this. It is not their integration into German society that is
important, nor their establishment and upcoming cosmopolitan orientation,
no, the only thing of relevance is nationalist ethos.
This is an unbearable state of affairs, which if it persists, does not augur
well for German-Turkish relations. German acceptance of Turks in Germany is
already minimal. The consequences of further alienation are virtually
impossible to estimate.
Sensible voices in Germany still capable of rational analysis are not
entirely absent. The Turkish Union in Berlin-Brandenburg, the TBB, has
refrained from jumping on the nationalist bandwagon. This should be welcomed
wholeheartedly, even if it means that the campaign now being launched
against this organisation will probably cause irreparable damage to the
Turkish population. The instrumentalisation of genocide, for whatever end it
might be, is always morally despicable and casts a dark shadow on those who
practise it. This applies in particular to politicians who serve the
interests of the so-called healthy understanding in Turkish society, to
which the denial and repression of genocide belong.
This instrumentalisation is not only morally despicable, it also deforms
those who practise it. Because by doing so they are treading in the
footsteps of the perpetrators. In the same way, a society which represses a
crime of such dimensions, which stubbornly refuses to feel guilt or
responsibility, is in no way immune to a repetition. The lynch-mob
atmosphere that has raised its head in recent weeks on Turkish streets
against minorities and other-minded individuals, does not - as one might
expect - awaken any bad memories, because such memories have been
deliberately erased.
All these events substantiate one fact: the scale and effect of the Armenian
genocide has yet to be understood by the Turks. What is lacking is not only
a rational analysis but a compassionate heart and an awareness of
responsibility, which would make many discussions completely superfluous.
For example, whether one categorises the events as genocide or massacre and
expulsion. A row over terminology cannot erase victims from memory or
history. A society that is unwilling to remember remains imprisoned by the
mistakes of the past. This verdict is much harsher that any judgement that
could be passed by some government.
*****
This article was originally published in German in the taz on 28 April 2005.
Zafer Senocak, born in Ankara in 1961, has lived in Germany since 1970,
where he has become a leading voice in German discussions on
multiculturalism, national and cultural identity, and a mediator between
Turkish and German culture.
Translation: lp.
http://www.signandsight.com/features/154.html
In the 21st century, Turkish society will no longer be able to afford this
rotten foundation of repression and crude historical falsification if it
wants to be invited into the circle of Europeans. The Turks cannot demand
that others come to terms with their histories when they themselves are only
willing to believe in a version they invented, says Zafer Senocak.
Signandsight.com (Arts, Essays, Ideas from Germany)
2005-05-10
By Zafer Senocak
In the aftermath of the Second World War, the Germans not only stood before
the ruins of their fragmented country. They also, in the light of the crimes
committed under National Socialist rule, stood before moral ruin and the
question of guilt, which after a relatively short phase of repression, led
to unprecedented historical scrutiny.
But what happens when instead of a culture of remembering, a culture of
repression and denial is established? How can two societies, one at home in
the culture of memory and the other in the culture of repression, come to
terms with one another.
The current debate surrounding the Armenian victims of Turkish deportation
and extermination in 1915 reflects the impossibility of this sort of
understanding. Many Turkish public figures and associations in Germany react
to the accusations of genocide with old patterns of repression that are so
thoroughly internalised that to abandon them would be like abandoning one's
very self.
This is no starting point, either for a dialogue with German society, which
is discussing this problematic chapter of Turkish history ever more openly,
or for the families of the victims who for decades have been seeking
recognition for their suffering.
This fact alone is monstrous enough. Imagine this for a moment: Your own
family is driven from its home, and in the process most of them lose their
lives, are massacred in cold blood. But the survivors and their children
then have to spend decades trying to bring the rest of the world, not to
mention the perpetrator nation, to recognise the suffering and injustice
inflicted on them. The accusation from the Turkish side that the Armenian
diaspora has purely nationalist motivations is downright shameless, given
that the Turkish establishment refuses to even lift a finger in
acknowledgement of these people and their personal histories.
Acknowledgement can neither be replaced by a public discussion of the events
in Anatolia, nor by parliamentary debate, and certainly not by an
international dispute between historians. The very fact that people are
calling for historians to debate the issue reveals coldness and distance,
which is part of the problem, not the solution. The archives are open, they
say, as if historical truth could be accessed solely through archives.
Historical truth is not a physical quantity that can be measured with a
mathematical formula. It is hidden in the memories of every individual
person. If these memories are subjected to a permanent process of
repression, there is no truth, only lies and falsification.
In the 21st century, Turkish society will no longer be able to afford this
rotten foundation of repression and crude historical falsification if it
wants to be invited into the circle of Europeans. The Turks cannot demand
that others come to terms with their histories when they themselves are only
willing to believe in a version they invented.
But virtually everything that has come out of the Turkish media in Germany
in recent weeks bodes ill. Instead of a serious debate on the issue, they
are concerned with capitalising on Armenia's history of suffering because it
is ideally suited to exploit Turkish nationalist feeling. But when this
takes place in Germany, it is not only dangerous but unbearable.
The defamation of critical voices by these press organs has by now lost all
journalistic sense and assumed the dimensions of a campaign. Once again it
is becoming clear that the majority of Turkish politicians and their lackeys
are utterly indifferent to the real concerns of Turks abroad. They view them
as a mass that can be manoeuvred to serve their own ends, however stable
they are. They see them as peasant victims, who can be shifted back and
forth, and abandoned at any point. The nationalistically-charged mass seems
to consent to this. It is not their integration into German society that is
important, nor their establishment and upcoming cosmopolitan orientation,
no, the only thing of relevance is nationalist ethos.
This is an unbearable state of affairs, which if it persists, does not augur
well for German-Turkish relations. German acceptance of Turks in Germany is
already minimal. The consequences of further alienation are virtually
impossible to estimate.
Sensible voices in Germany still capable of rational analysis are not
entirely absent. The Turkish Union in Berlin-Brandenburg, the TBB, has
refrained from jumping on the nationalist bandwagon. This should be welcomed
wholeheartedly, even if it means that the campaign now being launched
against this organisation will probably cause irreparable damage to the
Turkish population. The instrumentalisation of genocide, for whatever end it
might be, is always morally despicable and casts a dark shadow on those who
practise it. This applies in particular to politicians who serve the
interests of the so-called healthy understanding in Turkish society, to
which the denial and repression of genocide belong.
This instrumentalisation is not only morally despicable, it also deforms
those who practise it. Because by doing so they are treading in the
footsteps of the perpetrators. In the same way, a society which represses a
crime of such dimensions, which stubbornly refuses to feel guilt or
responsibility, is in no way immune to a repetition. The lynch-mob
atmosphere that has raised its head in recent weeks on Turkish streets
against minorities and other-minded individuals, does not - as one might
expect - awaken any bad memories, because such memories have been
deliberately erased.
All these events substantiate one fact: the scale and effect of the Armenian
genocide has yet to be understood by the Turks. What is lacking is not only
a rational analysis but a compassionate heart and an awareness of
responsibility, which would make many discussions completely superfluous.
For example, whether one categorises the events as genocide or massacre and
expulsion. A row over terminology cannot erase victims from memory or
history. A society that is unwilling to remember remains imprisoned by the
mistakes of the past. This verdict is much harsher that any judgement that
could be passed by some government.
*****
This article was originally published in German in the taz on 28 April 2005.
Zafer Senocak, born in Ankara in 1961, has lived in Germany since 1970,
where he has become a leading voice in German discussions on
multiculturalism, national and cultural identity, and a mediator between
Turkish and German culture.
Translation: lp.
http://www.signandsight.com/features/154.html