HRANT DINK'S VOICE
Jenna Krajeski
New Yorker Magazine
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2012/01/hrant-dinks-voice.html
Jan 27 2012
Last week, tens of thousands of people marched from Istanbul's Taksim
Square to the offices of the Armenian weekly Agos to commemorate the
death of its founding editor, Hrant Dink, and to protest a long-awaited
verdict against Dink's murderers, which had been delivered a few days
earlier. At the doors of those offices, five years ago, on January 19,
2007, a teen-ager posing as an Ankara University student angling for an
interview shot Dink at close range as he was returning to work. Dink,
a Turkish citizen of Armenian heritage, was outspoken about Armenian
issues; he was prosecuted three times for violating Article 301 of
the Turkish penal code, which makes it a crime to insult Turkishness,
the Turkish nation, or Turkish institutions. Dink spent his career
challenging the intolerance behind such statutes, becoming a champion
of minority rights in a country where such causes are punishable.
The murder instantly became a symbol of the racism and ultranationalism
grinding at the core of Turkish society, a war against freedom of
expression, and the complacency of Turkey's intellectuals. Images
from the crime-of Dink's shabby black shoes pigeon-toed beneath the
coroner's white tarp; of the leaderless but determined Agos staff; of
teen-aged killer Ogun Samast seeming to celebrate with his arresting
officers beneath a Turkish flag; of Samast's white cap and his alleged
cries when fleeing the scene of "I shot the infidel!"-were etched
into the national consciousness.
Later, another potent symbol was added, that of a small, circular
placard saying, "We are all Hrant. We are all Armenian." In
the aftermath of Dink's assassination, an organized, angry, and
determined protest movement was born in Turkey. Slogans professing
brotherhood with Dink were code for larger frustrations. It became
virtually impossible to talk about minority issues or human-rights
abuses or freedom of the press in Turkey without mentioning the Hrant
Dink assassination. Last week's verdict, by which nineteen men were
acquitted of conspiring to kill Dink and one received a life sentence
(Samast was sentenced earlier to twenty-two years) angered many because
it ignored the possibility of a wider conspiracy. "The case will not
end like this!" was a common chant.
Dink continually professed his love for Turkey as the motivation
behind his criticism of it. The protesters, too, argued that saving the
country meant embracing, not alienating, its minorities. The rallies
were offered as an antidote the ultranationalism that killed Dink.
In the years since Dink's murder, the movement has grown and become
more complex, bringing together Turkish liberals, Armenians, and
journalists, and also Kurds and Alevi, and women and members of the
L.G.B.T. community-basically all marginalized minorities in Turkey.
That round placard took on a neon hue at last year's gay-pride parade.
Some complain that the passion of Dink's defenders has overshadowed
other cases involving less prominent figures-the 2007 murder of
Christian missionaries in Malatya, for instance. But what the Dink
case provided, above all, was a starting point.
As the protest movement grew, so did the reasons to protest. In the
five years since Dink's assassination, pressure on the opposition
from the government has increased tremendously. "Freedom of the press
in Turkey has deteriorated," Robert Mahoney, Deputy Director of the
Committee to Protect Journalists told me. "It is going in the wrong
direction." Mahoney said that the press in Turkey had a lot to lose
should Dink's case not be investigated further. "Impunity is like
a cancer on press freedom," he said. It leads to self-censorship,
preventing journalists from doing their job. "The press should be
able to investigate a crime if the court cannot do it," Mahoney said.
"You have so many arrests of students just because they carry
posters calling for a better education," Ekrem Eddy Guzeldere, of the
European Stability Initiative, told me. One journalist in prison is
Nedim Sener. His crime is writing a book claiming that the police and
gendarmerie (and, ultimately, the Ministry of Justice) were involved
in the murder of Hrant Dink. Only two people are allowed to visit
Sener in prison-his wife and Hosrof Dink, Hrant's brother. After the
verdict finding that there was no conspiracy, Hosrof said, referring
to Sener, "The judiciary killed my brother again. I hope they don't
kill my other brother."
No one is happy with the verdict, not even the judge who admitted,
after the ruling, "I am not satisfied." Observers noted that key
evidence-namely, phone conversations between the subjects-was not
taken into account. But what really seems to have paved the way
for the verdict, and the murder itself, is perhaps harder to admit:
deeply ingrained discrimination against Armenians, which incited both
the threats against Dink and the negligent reaction to them.
In the lead-up to Dink's murder, some Turkish newspapers had written
published articles portraying Dink as anti-Turkish, and death threats
appeared in the comment sections of online media. Dink had asserted
publicly that one of Ataturk's adopted daughters was of Armenian
descent, a claim that sent the nation into a tailspin. He received hate
mail and protesters marched against him outside of the Agos offices.
Article 216 of the Turkish penal code allots specific jail time-ranging
from six months to three years-to crimes having to do with social
class, race, religion, or sectarian or regional differences, even
gender. But the article is generally only used against those who
denigrate Turks, not minorities. And in a country where the President
responded to assertions that he was part Armenian by bringing a court
case against those who "slandered" him, there is a long way to go.
Mustafa Akyol, a journalist and the author of "Islam Without Extremes,"
pointed to the sluggishness and bigotry of the Turkish justice system
at all stages of the Dink story. "The people in Istanbul didn't do
anything to protect him," Akyol told me. "I think it was basically
stupidity, neglect, and deep-seated nationalism. I think they thought,
'Why should we protect this Armenian guy?'"
For three years, Ozlem Dalkiran, a human-rights activist, has worked
on a Web site that tracks hate speech in Turkish media, particularly
against minorities. "The focus of the hate speech changes depending on
Turkey's agenda. But what doesn't change are the top two: the Kurds
and the Armenians," she told me. "Dink was murdered because he was
Armenian-because he was an Armenian who spoke out."
"Turkey is racist," Esra Arsan, a professor at Bilgi University,
told me. "Even after this trial, people are shouting against Armenians.
They wonder why people are taking this case so seriously. They say that
someone killed him, and that guy is in jail and what more do you want?"
At the protest last week, a moment of silence was punctuated by a
recording of Dink's voice. Mahoney, who interviewed Dink when he was
under threat, said, "What struck me about him was his quiet courage.
He refused to be intimidated. He would write about these issues in
Agos, and then go on television and in fluent Turkish say the same
thing." The protesters in downtown Istanbul were asking for exactly
what Hrant Dink wanted-as Dink told Mahoney, years ago, "Justice,
and to be able to speak the truth."
Jenna Krajeski
New Yorker Magazine
http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/newsdesk/2012/01/hrant-dinks-voice.html
Jan 27 2012
Last week, tens of thousands of people marched from Istanbul's Taksim
Square to the offices of the Armenian weekly Agos to commemorate the
death of its founding editor, Hrant Dink, and to protest a long-awaited
verdict against Dink's murderers, which had been delivered a few days
earlier. At the doors of those offices, five years ago, on January 19,
2007, a teen-ager posing as an Ankara University student angling for an
interview shot Dink at close range as he was returning to work. Dink,
a Turkish citizen of Armenian heritage, was outspoken about Armenian
issues; he was prosecuted three times for violating Article 301 of
the Turkish penal code, which makes it a crime to insult Turkishness,
the Turkish nation, or Turkish institutions. Dink spent his career
challenging the intolerance behind such statutes, becoming a champion
of minority rights in a country where such causes are punishable.
The murder instantly became a symbol of the racism and ultranationalism
grinding at the core of Turkish society, a war against freedom of
expression, and the complacency of Turkey's intellectuals. Images
from the crime-of Dink's shabby black shoes pigeon-toed beneath the
coroner's white tarp; of the leaderless but determined Agos staff; of
teen-aged killer Ogun Samast seeming to celebrate with his arresting
officers beneath a Turkish flag; of Samast's white cap and his alleged
cries when fleeing the scene of "I shot the infidel!"-were etched
into the national consciousness.
Later, another potent symbol was added, that of a small, circular
placard saying, "We are all Hrant. We are all Armenian." In
the aftermath of Dink's assassination, an organized, angry, and
determined protest movement was born in Turkey. Slogans professing
brotherhood with Dink were code for larger frustrations. It became
virtually impossible to talk about minority issues or human-rights
abuses or freedom of the press in Turkey without mentioning the Hrant
Dink assassination. Last week's verdict, by which nineteen men were
acquitted of conspiring to kill Dink and one received a life sentence
(Samast was sentenced earlier to twenty-two years) angered many because
it ignored the possibility of a wider conspiracy. "The case will not
end like this!" was a common chant.
Dink continually professed his love for Turkey as the motivation
behind his criticism of it. The protesters, too, argued that saving the
country meant embracing, not alienating, its minorities. The rallies
were offered as an antidote the ultranationalism that killed Dink.
In the years since Dink's murder, the movement has grown and become
more complex, bringing together Turkish liberals, Armenians, and
journalists, and also Kurds and Alevi, and women and members of the
L.G.B.T. community-basically all marginalized minorities in Turkey.
That round placard took on a neon hue at last year's gay-pride parade.
Some complain that the passion of Dink's defenders has overshadowed
other cases involving less prominent figures-the 2007 murder of
Christian missionaries in Malatya, for instance. But what the Dink
case provided, above all, was a starting point.
As the protest movement grew, so did the reasons to protest. In the
five years since Dink's assassination, pressure on the opposition
from the government has increased tremendously. "Freedom of the press
in Turkey has deteriorated," Robert Mahoney, Deputy Director of the
Committee to Protect Journalists told me. "It is going in the wrong
direction." Mahoney said that the press in Turkey had a lot to lose
should Dink's case not be investigated further. "Impunity is like
a cancer on press freedom," he said. It leads to self-censorship,
preventing journalists from doing their job. "The press should be
able to investigate a crime if the court cannot do it," Mahoney said.
"You have so many arrests of students just because they carry
posters calling for a better education," Ekrem Eddy Guzeldere, of the
European Stability Initiative, told me. One journalist in prison is
Nedim Sener. His crime is writing a book claiming that the police and
gendarmerie (and, ultimately, the Ministry of Justice) were involved
in the murder of Hrant Dink. Only two people are allowed to visit
Sener in prison-his wife and Hosrof Dink, Hrant's brother. After the
verdict finding that there was no conspiracy, Hosrof said, referring
to Sener, "The judiciary killed my brother again. I hope they don't
kill my other brother."
No one is happy with the verdict, not even the judge who admitted,
after the ruling, "I am not satisfied." Observers noted that key
evidence-namely, phone conversations between the subjects-was not
taken into account. But what really seems to have paved the way
for the verdict, and the murder itself, is perhaps harder to admit:
deeply ingrained discrimination against Armenians, which incited both
the threats against Dink and the negligent reaction to them.
In the lead-up to Dink's murder, some Turkish newspapers had written
published articles portraying Dink as anti-Turkish, and death threats
appeared in the comment sections of online media. Dink had asserted
publicly that one of Ataturk's adopted daughters was of Armenian
descent, a claim that sent the nation into a tailspin. He received hate
mail and protesters marched against him outside of the Agos offices.
Article 216 of the Turkish penal code allots specific jail time-ranging
from six months to three years-to crimes having to do with social
class, race, religion, or sectarian or regional differences, even
gender. But the article is generally only used against those who
denigrate Turks, not minorities. And in a country where the President
responded to assertions that he was part Armenian by bringing a court
case against those who "slandered" him, there is a long way to go.
Mustafa Akyol, a journalist and the author of "Islam Without Extremes,"
pointed to the sluggishness and bigotry of the Turkish justice system
at all stages of the Dink story. "The people in Istanbul didn't do
anything to protect him," Akyol told me. "I think it was basically
stupidity, neglect, and deep-seated nationalism. I think they thought,
'Why should we protect this Armenian guy?'"
For three years, Ozlem Dalkiran, a human-rights activist, has worked
on a Web site that tracks hate speech in Turkish media, particularly
against minorities. "The focus of the hate speech changes depending on
Turkey's agenda. But what doesn't change are the top two: the Kurds
and the Armenians," she told me. "Dink was murdered because he was
Armenian-because he was an Armenian who spoke out."
"Turkey is racist," Esra Arsan, a professor at Bilgi University,
told me. "Even after this trial, people are shouting against Armenians.
They wonder why people are taking this case so seriously. They say that
someone killed him, and that guy is in jail and what more do you want?"
At the protest last week, a moment of silence was punctuated by a
recording of Dink's voice. Mahoney, who interviewed Dink when he was
under threat, said, "What struck me about him was his quiet courage.
He refused to be intimidated. He would write about these issues in
Agos, and then go on television and in fluent Turkish say the same
thing." The protesters in downtown Istanbul were asking for exactly
what Hrant Dink wanted-as Dink told Mahoney, years ago, "Justice,
and to be able to speak the truth."