BLOODY TURK!
Today's Zaman
Sept 18 2009
Turkey
I am not a religious person. I am not Kurdish. I am not gay. I am not
Christian. I am not Armenian. I am not Roma. But I have spent all my
life defending these people's rights.
I am a human rights defender. When I describe myself, I say I am a
human rights defender, a lawyer and a writer. It was during my first
time in London in 1998 that I realized, no matter what I do, I was
a "bloody Turk" for some people. Ironically, I was working for the
Kurdish Human Right Project there, and we were taking cases to the
European Court of Human Rights, as a result of which I felt deeply
threatened by the deep state elements in my country. When I met with
the Armenian community in London, I turned into a representative of
Turkey. It was the first time my "Turkishness" took precedence over
all my qualifications.
Massacres of Armenians were orchestrated and organized by the
Committee of Union and Progress (CUP) -- which came to power through
a military coup -- while the Ottoman Empire was falling apart. After
these massacres and as a result of the lack of confrontation with our
past, the CUP and its gangs changed their format and turned into the
"deep state" in Turkey. These deep state elements continued their
massacres and manipulations and drenched Turkey with blood during
the Republican era. We have these deep state elements, but we also
have many people fighting against them with or without knowing the
history. The Ergenekon trial, in this sense, is a turning point in
this endeavor in Turkey. You can think of the Ergenekon gang as the
armed wing of the CUP in today's Turkey.
The massacres of Armenians were carried out by a certain mindset,
by a political movement. Unfortunately, this political movement also
created the official Turkish history, one in which there is no place
for Armenians. And the state is in complete denial of what happened
in Turkey in the past. This denial unfortunately gives strong support
to a racist approach toward Turkey and its people.
I was in Toronto last year attending an extremely interesting
course on genocide. For two weeks we went into all the details
of different genocides that took place in various parts of the
world. All lecturers gave exemplary presentations, and I felt I had
really learned something. However, I also realized that there was a
fundamental difference in the way in which the Armenian genocide is
being handled. When we spoke about the Holocaust, we spoke of the
Nazi regime; when we discussed the genocide in Cambodia, we talked
about the Khmer regime; when it came to the Armenian genocide, though,
we only heard the word "Turks."
Complete and blanket denial feeds complete and absolute labeling. This
is a vicious circle. It is very unfortunate that some Armenians,
while believing they are seeking justice, have turned into hopeless
racists. They do not want to believe that there are many good people
in this country. They do not want to remember that there were also
Turks who lost their lives while trying to protect Armenians. They
hold tightly on to this image of the "bloody Turk." Every Turk,
every individual living in Turkey, is just a murderer for them.
The pathology of amnesia and the pathology of blind hatred are two
sides of one coin. They both serve the same purpose: Both leave Turks
and Armenians as deeply neurotic people.
In the midst of all this madness, Hrant Dink was a safe haven of
reason, wisdom and compassion. He had a deep understanding of Turkey
and the trauma we have been suffering for so long. He was killed
because he was the hope in the face of this madness. He could have been
killed by an Armenian racist. But instead, he was killed by Turkish
racists, of course, under the guidance of the deep state. Dink was a
bloody Turk for Armenian racists and an Armenian traitor for racist
Turks. He was a dangerous figure for all who wanted to continue this
vicious circle of hatred. During his funeral, we chanted, "We all
are Hrant Dink." We all need to be Dink if we wish to contribute to
reconciliation. I bow respectfully before his memory.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress
Today's Zaman
Sept 18 2009
Turkey
I am not a religious person. I am not Kurdish. I am not gay. I am not
Christian. I am not Armenian. I am not Roma. But I have spent all my
life defending these people's rights.
I am a human rights defender. When I describe myself, I say I am a
human rights defender, a lawyer and a writer. It was during my first
time in London in 1998 that I realized, no matter what I do, I was
a "bloody Turk" for some people. Ironically, I was working for the
Kurdish Human Right Project there, and we were taking cases to the
European Court of Human Rights, as a result of which I felt deeply
threatened by the deep state elements in my country. When I met with
the Armenian community in London, I turned into a representative of
Turkey. It was the first time my "Turkishness" took precedence over
all my qualifications.
Massacres of Armenians were orchestrated and organized by the
Committee of Union and Progress (CUP) -- which came to power through
a military coup -- while the Ottoman Empire was falling apart. After
these massacres and as a result of the lack of confrontation with our
past, the CUP and its gangs changed their format and turned into the
"deep state" in Turkey. These deep state elements continued their
massacres and manipulations and drenched Turkey with blood during
the Republican era. We have these deep state elements, but we also
have many people fighting against them with or without knowing the
history. The Ergenekon trial, in this sense, is a turning point in
this endeavor in Turkey. You can think of the Ergenekon gang as the
armed wing of the CUP in today's Turkey.
The massacres of Armenians were carried out by a certain mindset,
by a political movement. Unfortunately, this political movement also
created the official Turkish history, one in which there is no place
for Armenians. And the state is in complete denial of what happened
in Turkey in the past. This denial unfortunately gives strong support
to a racist approach toward Turkey and its people.
I was in Toronto last year attending an extremely interesting
course on genocide. For two weeks we went into all the details
of different genocides that took place in various parts of the
world. All lecturers gave exemplary presentations, and I felt I had
really learned something. However, I also realized that there was a
fundamental difference in the way in which the Armenian genocide is
being handled. When we spoke about the Holocaust, we spoke of the
Nazi regime; when we discussed the genocide in Cambodia, we talked
about the Khmer regime; when it came to the Armenian genocide, though,
we only heard the word "Turks."
Complete and blanket denial feeds complete and absolute labeling. This
is a vicious circle. It is very unfortunate that some Armenians,
while believing they are seeking justice, have turned into hopeless
racists. They do not want to believe that there are many good people
in this country. They do not want to remember that there were also
Turks who lost their lives while trying to protect Armenians. They
hold tightly on to this image of the "bloody Turk." Every Turk,
every individual living in Turkey, is just a murderer for them.
The pathology of amnesia and the pathology of blind hatred are two
sides of one coin. They both serve the same purpose: Both leave Turks
and Armenians as deeply neurotic people.
In the midst of all this madness, Hrant Dink was a safe haven of
reason, wisdom and compassion. He had a deep understanding of Turkey
and the trauma we have been suffering for so long. He was killed
because he was the hope in the face of this madness. He could have been
killed by an Armenian racist. But instead, he was killed by Turkish
racists, of course, under the guidance of the deep state. Dink was a
bloody Turk for Armenian racists and an Armenian traitor for racist
Turks. He was a dangerous figure for all who wanted to continue this
vicious circle of hatred. During his funeral, we chanted, "We all
are Hrant Dink." We all need to be Dink if we wish to contribute to
reconciliation. I bow respectfully before his memory.
From: Emil Lazarian | Ararat NewsPress