Tweet
WITH RELEASE OF POPE GUNMAN, TURKS RECALL ANOTHER SHOOTING BY THE SAME MAN - THIS ONE FATAL
By Christopher Torchia
Canadian Press
Jan 20 2010
ISTANBUL, Turkey -- The release of the Turkish man who shot the pope
in 1981 has unsettled Turks who remember him for another crime -
the killing of journalist Abdi Ipekci, whose calls for tolerance
still resonate in a divided nation.
The world knows Mehmet Ali Agca for his attempt on Pope John Paul
II, a brazen assault in the midst of throngs of the devout in Rome
that has not been explained to the satisfaction of prosecutors. But
his emergence after decades in jail had a deeper impact in Turkey,
troubled by a dark past and concerns about impunity, conspiracy and
freedom of expression.
Agca was convicted of the fatal shooting of Ipekci, chief editor of
Milliyet newspaper, outside his apartment building in Istanbul on Feb.
1, 1979. Yet suspicions that he acted for a wider right-wing network
never advanced beyond speculation in a country where many believe a
"deep state," renegade gangs with links to security forces, targeted
perceived enemies.
Those suspicions about opaque power interests revived when Agca, 52,
was released Monday. A black SUV with tinted windows ferried him to
the luxury Sheraton hotel in Ankara, and he was escorted by men in
suits, some with thick moustaches of a style worn by the now-defunct
Gray Wolves, a rightist militant group to which Agca was once linked.
In a statement released Wednesday, Agca declared his innocence,
saluted Ipekci's family as "noble and respected" and said he "had no
connection with official or unofficial circles in Turkey other than
a handful of ultra-nationalists."
Agca's claims this week that he is the Messiah fueled old theories
that he is indeed mentally ill, or is trying to stoke curiosity and
diversion in order to collect as high a price as possible for selling
his story.
His lawyer, Gokay Gultekin, said Agca was resting in Istanbul on
Wednesday. He apologized for a reported incident in which armed
associates of Agca threatened journalists on a highway while travelling
with him from the capital.
Turkish journalists were deeply conflicted about Agca, so hungry for a
sensational story that they rough-housed for position in the elegant
hotel lobby after his release, but also repulsed by a man who killed
one of their most respected colleagues.
"Ipekci's dirty murderer," grumbled some who felt they were bestowing
on Agca the celebrity status that he appears to crave.
Milliyet newspaper published a front-page photograph of the gaunt,
grey-haired Agca with a black strip across his eyes and the headline:
"We don't want to see his face."
Ipekci, an advocate of secular democracy who was seen as leftist
by hardline nationalists, appeared to be the victim of ideological
divisions driven by the Cold War. In contrast, one of the main rifts
in democratic Turkey today pits the Islamic-rooted government against
secular circles linked to the military and judiciary.
But his message of inclusion and democratic change applies across
the decades, his admirers said, and the naming in his honour of an
Istanbul street and a major sports arena, as well as the unveiling
of a bronze bust, have established him as an icon for some.
"That message is as valid today 30 years on," said Semih Idiz, a
columnist at Milliyet. "He's obviously a very big role model for a
very significant portion of the population."
While Turkey is far more stable than it was three decades ago, recent
murders of journalists seem to echo the lack of answers surrounding
Ipekci's death and reinforce the sense that transparency is elusive
and expression can be dangerous.
In 1993, investigative reporter Ugur Mumcu died in a car bombing. The
case was never solved.
Ethnic Armenian journalist Hrant Dink was fatally shot three years
ago outside his newspaper office, just blocks from where Ipekci was
assassinated. A young triggerman is on trial and state agents have
been scrutinized for negligence, but Dink's family and lawyers say
the real masterminds of the murder have yet to be uncovered.
On Dec. 19, Cihan Hayirsevener, the editor of a newspaper in the
western town of Bandirma, was fatally shot after reporting on a local
corruption scandal. Authorities are investigating.
Agca had received a life sentence, which amounts to 36 years under
Turkish law, for murdering Ipekci, but he promptly escaped from prison
and left the country - possibly with the help of an underground
network - and shot the pope two years later. After his extradition
from Italy in 2000, authorities deducted time served in Italy, and
several amnesties and legal amendments further reduced his term.
The complex calculation of his punishment led to his wrongful release
from prison in 2006. He was re-imprisoned eight days later.
Agca's contradictory statements about his attack on the pope have
frustrated official inquiries over the decades. At the time of his
arrest, he said he acted alone, but later suggested Bulgaria and the
Soviet Union's KGB were behind the attack. Prosecutors in Poland, where
John Paul II was born, say Agca is an unreliable source of testimony.
In Turkey, those who dwell on Ipekci's murder include Hasan Fehmi
Gunes, the interior minister at the time.
"I harbour the suspicion that those who directed him toward the act,
those who protected him, those who organized his escape are at this
point protecting him and directing the process," Gunes told Cumhuriyet
newspaper.
Associated Press Write Suzan Fraser contributed to this report
from Ankara.
By Christopher Torchia
Canadian Press
Jan 20 2010
ISTANBUL, Turkey -- The release of the Turkish man who shot the pope
in 1981 has unsettled Turks who remember him for another crime -
the killing of journalist Abdi Ipekci, whose calls for tolerance
still resonate in a divided nation.
The world knows Mehmet Ali Agca for his attempt on Pope John Paul
II, a brazen assault in the midst of throngs of the devout in Rome
that has not been explained to the satisfaction of prosecutors. But
his emergence after decades in jail had a deeper impact in Turkey,
troubled by a dark past and concerns about impunity, conspiracy and
freedom of expression.
Agca was convicted of the fatal shooting of Ipekci, chief editor of
Milliyet newspaper, outside his apartment building in Istanbul on Feb.
1, 1979. Yet suspicions that he acted for a wider right-wing network
never advanced beyond speculation in a country where many believe a
"deep state," renegade gangs with links to security forces, targeted
perceived enemies.
Those suspicions about opaque power interests revived when Agca, 52,
was released Monday. A black SUV with tinted windows ferried him to
the luxury Sheraton hotel in Ankara, and he was escorted by men in
suits, some with thick moustaches of a style worn by the now-defunct
Gray Wolves, a rightist militant group to which Agca was once linked.
In a statement released Wednesday, Agca declared his innocence,
saluted Ipekci's family as "noble and respected" and said he "had no
connection with official or unofficial circles in Turkey other than
a handful of ultra-nationalists."
Agca's claims this week that he is the Messiah fueled old theories
that he is indeed mentally ill, or is trying to stoke curiosity and
diversion in order to collect as high a price as possible for selling
his story.
His lawyer, Gokay Gultekin, said Agca was resting in Istanbul on
Wednesday. He apologized for a reported incident in which armed
associates of Agca threatened journalists on a highway while travelling
with him from the capital.
Turkish journalists were deeply conflicted about Agca, so hungry for a
sensational story that they rough-housed for position in the elegant
hotel lobby after his release, but also repulsed by a man who killed
one of their most respected colleagues.
"Ipekci's dirty murderer," grumbled some who felt they were bestowing
on Agca the celebrity status that he appears to crave.
Milliyet newspaper published a front-page photograph of the gaunt,
grey-haired Agca with a black strip across his eyes and the headline:
"We don't want to see his face."
Ipekci, an advocate of secular democracy who was seen as leftist
by hardline nationalists, appeared to be the victim of ideological
divisions driven by the Cold War. In contrast, one of the main rifts
in democratic Turkey today pits the Islamic-rooted government against
secular circles linked to the military and judiciary.
But his message of inclusion and democratic change applies across
the decades, his admirers said, and the naming in his honour of an
Istanbul street and a major sports arena, as well as the unveiling
of a bronze bust, have established him as an icon for some.
"That message is as valid today 30 years on," said Semih Idiz, a
columnist at Milliyet. "He's obviously a very big role model for a
very significant portion of the population."
While Turkey is far more stable than it was three decades ago, recent
murders of journalists seem to echo the lack of answers surrounding
Ipekci's death and reinforce the sense that transparency is elusive
and expression can be dangerous.
In 1993, investigative reporter Ugur Mumcu died in a car bombing. The
case was never solved.
Ethnic Armenian journalist Hrant Dink was fatally shot three years
ago outside his newspaper office, just blocks from where Ipekci was
assassinated. A young triggerman is on trial and state agents have
been scrutinized for negligence, but Dink's family and lawyers say
the real masterminds of the murder have yet to be uncovered.
On Dec. 19, Cihan Hayirsevener, the editor of a newspaper in the
western town of Bandirma, was fatally shot after reporting on a local
corruption scandal. Authorities are investigating.
Agca had received a life sentence, which amounts to 36 years under
Turkish law, for murdering Ipekci, but he promptly escaped from prison
and left the country - possibly with the help of an underground
network - and shot the pope two years later. After his extradition
from Italy in 2000, authorities deducted time served in Italy, and
several amnesties and legal amendments further reduced his term.
The complex calculation of his punishment led to his wrongful release
from prison in 2006. He was re-imprisoned eight days later.
Agca's contradictory statements about his attack on the pope have
frustrated official inquiries over the decades. At the time of his
arrest, he said he acted alone, but later suggested Bulgaria and the
Soviet Union's KGB were behind the attack. Prosecutors in Poland, where
John Paul II was born, say Agca is an unreliable source of testimony.
In Turkey, those who dwell on Ipekci's murder include Hasan Fehmi
Gunes, the interior minister at the time.
"I harbour the suspicion that those who directed him toward the act,
those who protected him, those who organized his escape are at this
point protecting him and directing the process," Gunes told Cumhuriyet
newspaper.
Associated Press Write Suzan Fraser contributed to this report
from Ankara.