EVOLVING INTO A SOCIETY TOLERANT OF DISSENTING VIEWS WILL TAKE TIME IN TURKEY
by Harry Sterling, Freelance

Edmonton Journal (Alberta)
October 24, 2006 Tuesday
Final Edition

Novel for dissident writer may focus world attention, and help this
process along

OTTAWA — His own government was determined to imprison him for
denigrating his country.

Paradoxically, this month he found himself the recipient of the much
coveted Nobel Prize for Literature.

It’s an honour which some in Turkey clearly would rather ignore,
regarding Turkey’s internationally respected author, Orhan Pamuk, as
almost a traitor for daring to publicly refer to claims 1.5 million
Armenians living in Ottomon Turkey were victims of genocide carried out
by the Turks during the First World War, and for also criticizing the
denial of fundamental human rights to Turkey’s large Kurdish minority.

While many would agree that Orhan Pamuk richly deserved the Nobel
Prize for his many memorable novels and works of non-fiction,
as exemplified by My Name is Red, Istanbul, and Snow, his selection
this year may have been based as much on his determination to express
his right to freedom of speech as on his writings, notwithstanding
their obvious merits. However, that commitment to speak the truth
was not appreciated by everyone in his homeland, particularly not
Islamists and ultra-nationalists who regard his references to the
massive deaths of Armenians nine decades ago and the oppression of
Kurdish human rights as deliberate slandering of Turkey.

His critics, including successive Turkish governments, have always
insisted the large-scale deaths of Armenians during the First World
War occurred when the then-Ottoman government was trying to put down
Armenian nationalists aligned with invading Russian forces and was
not an act of premeditated genocide.

They also insist the figure of 1.5 million deaths is inflated.

Feelings against Orhan Pamuk reached a fever pitch after he was
quoted in a Swiss interview saying few in Turkey were prepared to
look honestly at what befell the Armenians and Kurds.

His outspokenness led to his being charged with "insulting
Turkishness," a crime carrying a sentence of three years in prison.

Pamuk was subjected to widespread criticism and physical threats.

It was only after an international outcry and pressure, particularly
from the European Union — which Turkey wants to join — did the
Turkish authorities drop the charges.

But Orhan Pamuk’s experience was far from unique. It’s symptomatic of
a never-ending struggle by Turkish writers, intellectuals, human rights
activists, and others, to ensure that freedom of speech and respect for
other fundamental human rights are fully honoured in Turkey, a goal
frequently blocked by those who believe western concepts of freedom
of speech without controls can undermine the sanctity of the state.

(Under Turkish law, it is forbidden to criticize the nation, the
president and prime minister, as well as the military.)

Scores of Turkish writers and journalists are regularly harassed
or imprisoned for allegedly denigrating the nation. One authoress
was recently charged with insulting Turkishness because one of her
characters in a work of fiction was critical of Turkey. As Elif Shafak
explained when charged with insulting Turkishness in her recent novel,
"If there’s a thief in a novel, it doesn’t make the novelist a thief."

But, as the controversy surrounding Orhan Pamuk made clear, the issue
of freedom of speech in Turkey is very much about a nation’s ability
to look objectively at its own history and practices.

Until very recently, the Armenian genocide issue was a taboo subject in
Turkey. Anyone daring to suggest that Turkey’s Armenian subjects were
victims of possible genocide would find themselves prosecuted in court.

Similarly, anyone reporting on violence inflicted on Turkey’s Kurdish
population could expect to feel the authorities’ wrath. In one bizarre
case, a Turkish journalist was charged with violating the law because
he filmed a military tank dragging the body of a dead Kurd.

Despite the unwillingness of some in Turkey to accept that questioning
aspects of Turkish life and past history should be tolerated in a
democratic society, such views are no longer as prevalent or deeply
felt as previously.

There are two reasons for this. First, Turkey has been steadily
evolving into a modern industrial state in recent years. Although the
Turkish economy has experienced its ups and downs, living standards
have improved for many Turks, resulting in a better educated population
no longer as prepared to accept uncritically restrictions on freedom
of speech and basic human rights.

Second, the European Union has made it unequivocally clear that
if Turkey is to stand any realistic chance of joining the EU, they
must end legal and other restrictions on fundamental human rights,
including the rights of minorities, such as the Kurds.

To its credit, the current government of Prime Minister Erdogan has
implemented several changes improving human rights legislation. It’s
also permitted the use of the Kurdish language in certain schools for
the first time, along with broadcasts in Kurdish, previously banned.

These are welcome developments. However, as the recent experience of
Orhan Pamuk and other Turkish writers and journalists has demonstrated,
Turkey’s evolution into a society tolerant of dissenting views remains
a work in progress. Hopefully, the honour of having a Turkish Nobel
laureate could assist that process.

Harry Sterling, a former diplomat, is an Ottawa-based commentator.

He served in Turkey.