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'I CALL THIS A CEASEFIRE, NOT A PEACE PROCESS'
Karin KarakaÅ~_lı 03.12.2015 09:58
NEWS
We spoke with journalist Fréderike Geerdink, whose book 'Roboskî:
Gencler Oldu (Roboskî: The Young Died)' has recently been published,
about many topics from State policies targeting struggles for identity
to most recent political developments.
Fréderike Geerdink, the only foreign journalist who is settled in
Diyarbakır, and who was lived in Turkey since 2006, has recently
published her book 'Roboskî: Gencler Oldu (Roboskî: The Young
Died)' on the massacre the families in Roboskî faced. Published
by Ä°letiÅ~_im, the book focuses on this massacre to delve into
the history of the Kurdish question, and also follows Geerdink's
personal story of confronting the issue as she lived for many months
with the Roboskî families. We spoke with Geerdink about many topics,
from State policies targeting struggles for identity to most recent
political developments.
The political scene of Turkey has a very unique character;
one frequently has to understand the underlying message through
implications. How do you follow the dynamics? Which obstacles did
you overcome in order to penetrate to the soul of this country?
I could not have written this book when I first came to Turkey. I
didn't understand the country at all; it kept me awake at night
sometimes, to be honest. But in the years that I have been living in
Turkey now, since December 2006, I have learnt a lot, just by living
here but also, of course, by talking to many people from different
walks of life. People sometimes think I lived in Istanbul and then
in Amed/Diyarbakır/Digranakert and that I now travel in Kurdistan a
lot, but I have travelled all over Turkey. I haven't only talked to
Kurds but to Turks, and from all political orientations. I like that,
and it's essential for a journalist.
Eventually I understood that my concept of human rights, which
is often considered 'Western', is indeed applicable to Turkey too,
contrary to what some Turks may say, who see it as an imperialist kind
of thing. Human rights are about identity, and everybody in Turkey,
as well as everywhere in the world, has several identities in an
ever-changing balance; and you can only live your life in freedom if
you can live and express all your identities.
I have learned the most about Turkey from suppressed groups. But I
also think that people who are in some suppressed group themselves
get to know their country very well. I once talked to a colleague
in Istanbul; she was from a Kemalist family but very critical on the
issues of the State and Kemalism. So I asked her how this came about.
She replied: 'I'm bisexual. Believe me, then you get to know the
dynamics in this country'. That was very enlightening for me.
Your recently published book 'Roboskî: Gencler Oldu' is not only
a witness account based on reports and interviews, but also your
personal confrontation with the Kurdish problem and State policies.
Despite all the censorship of the state and military, Roboskî has
turned into a very powerful symbol. How has Roboskî become a turning
point in terms of 'awareness'?
I don't know if it is a turning point in terms of awareness actually.
Kurds knew the State already, and people who don't want to see the
real face of the state, haven't opened their eyes because of Roboskî.
They say - and I have had this reaction more than once - that these
people were helping the PKK anyway, and ask what they were doing there
on that PKK route. They were not helping the PKK, of course, many of
them were actually village guards or related to village guards, and
so if they were helping anyone, it was the State, but not willingly.
Anyway, Roboskî has become a symbol of the ruthlessness of the State
and of how little it cares for human lives. But in Turkey, many people
open their eyes only when the lack of freedom in this country starts
affecting themselves. You see this with Gezi, for example. Many of
the Gezi protesters were not political at all before the Gezi uprising
started and they woke up to the realities of the State with violence.
So the situation is a bit complicated: I want people in Turkey to
open their eyes to the murderous character of the State; but at the
same time, I don't wish anybody such a harsh, violent wake up call.
In your book there are a number of very impressive women and the
special connection between you and them stands out. How do you see
the situation of these women?
The most important woman in my book is Pakize. She is now 31 years old
and she has 5 children. Her husband Osman died in the massacre. Her
psychological problems after the massacre had psychical implications
too, like stomach aches. She now has to take care of her family by
herself, but of course she gets a lot of support from her relatives
and fellow villagers. And she had to open a bank account after the
massacre because some NGOs wanted to help her, and sometimes people
want to support her to help make ends meet. I asked her if she ever
thinks of marrying again, but no, she doesn't want that ever in her
life any more. She was happy with Osman, they married very young but
their marriage was a good one.
Her children are important too, her two boys and three girls. I wonder
how they will grow up, and I intend to keep going to Roboskî for
years to come to see how the children will do later in life.
You, too, have been sued for allegedly 'making terrorist propaganda',
at a time when direct negotiations continue with Ocalan, the leader
of the PKK. How do you see this contradictory situation, what is the
'message' given to you?
There is nothing contradictory here. The case against me just shows,
once again, that the government is not serious in this so-called peace
process. There are no negotiations going on, they are just talking to
each other and we are still waiting for the actual negotiations. So I
don't call this a peace process, I call it a ceasefire. And I support
the ceasefire whole-heartedly, since ever since it started no soldiers
and no PKK fighters have died and that is truly great. But, let us
consider how many civilians have been murdered by the State since
Newroz 2013? We are now commemorating the death of Berkin Elvan a
year ago. And in the southeast, at least thirty people were killed
by the State, mostly young people.
I am not sure what the message for me is: Go home (I feel at home
already, so I'm not going anywhere), or stop writing (which I won't
do), or stop explaining the Kurdish struggle properly (which I can't
do, since this is my job and I love it). Maybe they just want to
intimidate me. They are unsuccessful, I am not scared.
'Kurds and Armenians will not accept these policies any longer'
You frequently underline the importance of identity and how horrifying
its denial can be. Denial is strongly associated with the Armenian
Genocide and the denial of the existence and the collective rights
of the Kurdish people. What do you think is the correlation between
these two impasses of the State of Turkey?
The position of the Armenians and Kurds perfectly explains the
foundations of the State of Turkey. The imposed Turkish identity is
of both an inclusive and exclusive character. The policy towards the
Kurds has always been forcefully inclusive: you HAVE TO be one of us,
you have to be a Turk, and this is because Kurds too are Muslims.
Towards the Armenians the policy was explicitly exclusive: You are
not Muslims, so you can never be a part of us. Not only with concrete
measures like the Wealth Tax, but also with psychological warfare,
picturing Armenians as traitors, as enemies within.
I learned about this in the days after the murder of Hrant Dink. He
was murdered when I had been in Turkey for only a month, and I spent
days in front of Agos, making one of my first big stories as a Turkey
correspondent, for which I talked to many Armenians. I was so impressed
by this grief, and the people I talked to were so good in explaining
the situation of Armenians in Turkey, it was like a crash course for
me. I still get goose bumps when I think back to those days.
But both Kurds and Armenians have decided not to accept these policies
any longer. Hrant Dink did so much to make Armenians more visible, to
take away their fear of showing themselves, and the Kurdish movement
has done the same for Kurds. Both groups are making huge contributions
in helping break down the State system that cares only for the State
and not for the people. One day this will lead to, I hope, a beautiful
result, a democratic Turkey. When that is reached, all other groups who
are suppressed in Turkey will have their fundamental rights as well,
like LGBT people, Alevis, Arabs, Assyrians, you name them. And then,
let's not forget them, Turks will have their democratic rights as well.
http://www.agos.com.tr/en/article/10843/i-call-this-a-ceasefire-not-a-peace-process
Karin KarakaÅ~_lı 03.12.2015 09:58
NEWS
We spoke with journalist Fréderike Geerdink, whose book 'Roboskî:
Gencler Oldu (Roboskî: The Young Died)' has recently been published,
about many topics from State policies targeting struggles for identity
to most recent political developments.
Fréderike Geerdink, the only foreign journalist who is settled in
Diyarbakır, and who was lived in Turkey since 2006, has recently
published her book 'Roboskî: Gencler Oldu (Roboskî: The Young
Died)' on the massacre the families in Roboskî faced. Published
by Ä°letiÅ~_im, the book focuses on this massacre to delve into
the history of the Kurdish question, and also follows Geerdink's
personal story of confronting the issue as she lived for many months
with the Roboskî families. We spoke with Geerdink about many topics,
from State policies targeting struggles for identity to most recent
political developments.
The political scene of Turkey has a very unique character;
one frequently has to understand the underlying message through
implications. How do you follow the dynamics? Which obstacles did
you overcome in order to penetrate to the soul of this country?
I could not have written this book when I first came to Turkey. I
didn't understand the country at all; it kept me awake at night
sometimes, to be honest. But in the years that I have been living in
Turkey now, since December 2006, I have learnt a lot, just by living
here but also, of course, by talking to many people from different
walks of life. People sometimes think I lived in Istanbul and then
in Amed/Diyarbakır/Digranakert and that I now travel in Kurdistan a
lot, but I have travelled all over Turkey. I haven't only talked to
Kurds but to Turks, and from all political orientations. I like that,
and it's essential for a journalist.
Eventually I understood that my concept of human rights, which
is often considered 'Western', is indeed applicable to Turkey too,
contrary to what some Turks may say, who see it as an imperialist kind
of thing. Human rights are about identity, and everybody in Turkey,
as well as everywhere in the world, has several identities in an
ever-changing balance; and you can only live your life in freedom if
you can live and express all your identities.
I have learned the most about Turkey from suppressed groups. But I
also think that people who are in some suppressed group themselves
get to know their country very well. I once talked to a colleague
in Istanbul; she was from a Kemalist family but very critical on the
issues of the State and Kemalism. So I asked her how this came about.
She replied: 'I'm bisexual. Believe me, then you get to know the
dynamics in this country'. That was very enlightening for me.
Your recently published book 'Roboskî: Gencler Oldu' is not only
a witness account based on reports and interviews, but also your
personal confrontation with the Kurdish problem and State policies.
Despite all the censorship of the state and military, Roboskî has
turned into a very powerful symbol. How has Roboskî become a turning
point in terms of 'awareness'?
I don't know if it is a turning point in terms of awareness actually.
Kurds knew the State already, and people who don't want to see the
real face of the state, haven't opened their eyes because of Roboskî.
They say - and I have had this reaction more than once - that these
people were helping the PKK anyway, and ask what they were doing there
on that PKK route. They were not helping the PKK, of course, many of
them were actually village guards or related to village guards, and
so if they were helping anyone, it was the State, but not willingly.
Anyway, Roboskî has become a symbol of the ruthlessness of the State
and of how little it cares for human lives. But in Turkey, many people
open their eyes only when the lack of freedom in this country starts
affecting themselves. You see this with Gezi, for example. Many of
the Gezi protesters were not political at all before the Gezi uprising
started and they woke up to the realities of the State with violence.
So the situation is a bit complicated: I want people in Turkey to
open their eyes to the murderous character of the State; but at the
same time, I don't wish anybody such a harsh, violent wake up call.
In your book there are a number of very impressive women and the
special connection between you and them stands out. How do you see
the situation of these women?
The most important woman in my book is Pakize. She is now 31 years old
and she has 5 children. Her husband Osman died in the massacre. Her
psychological problems after the massacre had psychical implications
too, like stomach aches. She now has to take care of her family by
herself, but of course she gets a lot of support from her relatives
and fellow villagers. And she had to open a bank account after the
massacre because some NGOs wanted to help her, and sometimes people
want to support her to help make ends meet. I asked her if she ever
thinks of marrying again, but no, she doesn't want that ever in her
life any more. She was happy with Osman, they married very young but
their marriage was a good one.
Her children are important too, her two boys and three girls. I wonder
how they will grow up, and I intend to keep going to Roboskî for
years to come to see how the children will do later in life.
You, too, have been sued for allegedly 'making terrorist propaganda',
at a time when direct negotiations continue with Ocalan, the leader
of the PKK. How do you see this contradictory situation, what is the
'message' given to you?
There is nothing contradictory here. The case against me just shows,
once again, that the government is not serious in this so-called peace
process. There are no negotiations going on, they are just talking to
each other and we are still waiting for the actual negotiations. So I
don't call this a peace process, I call it a ceasefire. And I support
the ceasefire whole-heartedly, since ever since it started no soldiers
and no PKK fighters have died and that is truly great. But, let us
consider how many civilians have been murdered by the State since
Newroz 2013? We are now commemorating the death of Berkin Elvan a
year ago. And in the southeast, at least thirty people were killed
by the State, mostly young people.
I am not sure what the message for me is: Go home (I feel at home
already, so I'm not going anywhere), or stop writing (which I won't
do), or stop explaining the Kurdish struggle properly (which I can't
do, since this is my job and I love it). Maybe they just want to
intimidate me. They are unsuccessful, I am not scared.
'Kurds and Armenians will not accept these policies any longer'
You frequently underline the importance of identity and how horrifying
its denial can be. Denial is strongly associated with the Armenian
Genocide and the denial of the existence and the collective rights
of the Kurdish people. What do you think is the correlation between
these two impasses of the State of Turkey?
The position of the Armenians and Kurds perfectly explains the
foundations of the State of Turkey. The imposed Turkish identity is
of both an inclusive and exclusive character. The policy towards the
Kurds has always been forcefully inclusive: you HAVE TO be one of us,
you have to be a Turk, and this is because Kurds too are Muslims.
Towards the Armenians the policy was explicitly exclusive: You are
not Muslims, so you can never be a part of us. Not only with concrete
measures like the Wealth Tax, but also with psychological warfare,
picturing Armenians as traitors, as enemies within.
I learned about this in the days after the murder of Hrant Dink. He
was murdered when I had been in Turkey for only a month, and I spent
days in front of Agos, making one of my first big stories as a Turkey
correspondent, for which I talked to many Armenians. I was so impressed
by this grief, and the people I talked to were so good in explaining
the situation of Armenians in Turkey, it was like a crash course for
me. I still get goose bumps when I think back to those days.
But both Kurds and Armenians have decided not to accept these policies
any longer. Hrant Dink did so much to make Armenians more visible, to
take away their fear of showing themselves, and the Kurdish movement
has done the same for Kurds. Both groups are making huge contributions
in helping break down the State system that cares only for the State
and not for the people. One day this will lead to, I hope, a beautiful
result, a democratic Turkey. When that is reached, all other groups who
are suppressed in Turkey will have their fundamental rights as well,
like LGBT people, Alevis, Arabs, Assyrians, you name them. And then,
let's not forget them, Turks will have their democratic rights as well.
http://www.agos.com.tr/en/article/10843/i-call-this-a-ceasefire-not-a-peace-process