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I
have been living in Istanbul for 40 years...
I
have never seen days like the last
By
Cengiz Çandar (*)
Al-Monitor,
June 2 2013
Istanbul
— I have been living in Istanbul for 40 years. I have
never seen days like the last two in my city. I never
thought I would be living through times like these.
I
am writing these lines as a veteran of revolutionary
situations and extraordinary days. Which one should I recall?
I am someone who was in East Berlin in November 1989
when the Berlin Wall came down and stayed on for days to
live those momentous days; after Berlin, I was in beautiful
Prague to experience the Velvet Revolution; in 1987 and
1988, I witnessed the Palestinian intifada in Jerusalem, and
in other towns of the West Bank and Gaza; I was there during
those memorable days of August 1991 when Boris Yeltsin stood
up on a tank but the military coup collapsed, Gorbachev
returned to the capital and the Soviet Union disintegrated.
And, finally, in I was in Beirut during the week of March
2005 when the Syrians evacuated Lebanon.
I
can easily double the list of events I've observed. If I add
the events of May 31 and June 1 in Istanbul to my list,
which category should I put it in?
It
reminded me most Prague’s Velvet Revolution. For those who
have some idea of Istanbul, let me tell you my meanderings:
I approached the Taksim Square, the epicenter of Istanbul,
from different directions. I approached the Taksim Gezi Park,
the focal point of the protests, first via Istanbul
Technical University’s historical Taskisla School of
Architecture. Then I went down toward the sea and came up to
Taksim via Gumussuyu. I went to the Dolmabahce sea shore,
walked to now a booming avant-garde art scene of Tophane and
climbed up the famed Italian Hill and reached Cihangir. That
was the neighborhood among the key centers of popular
resistance. This is where Turkey’s famous movie and soap
opera stars, writers and bohemians live. I went down back to
the seaside and climbed up to Galatasaray, Turkey’s
historical Francophone lycee, and from there to the heart of
old Istanbul, the Istiklal Caddesi [avenue], the renown Rue
de Pera of Ottoman centuries, now in the hands of the
protesters.
In
this area groups of three, five or 20, men and women, were
walking in all directions, sometimes quietly sometimes
chanting slogans; some were heading to Taksim and some
coming from there.
The
most noticeable feature of these people: their youth.
Generally they were men and women in their late 20s or early
30s. Their common accessory of their age group as everywhere
else in the world was their backpacks; dressed in shorts, T-shirts
and sneakers on their feet.
Another
amazing sight were fans of Turkey’s top three most
powerful and popular sports clubs — Fenerbahce,
Galatasaray and Besiktas — who for a long time have not
been allowed to watch football together because of stadium
violence; this time they walked together, arm in arm, all
wearing their team colors.
On
the Asian side of Istanbul, they were not just watching what
was happening on the other side. On the morning of June 1,
thousands of them marched 20 km of Bagdad caddesi,
considered to be the Champs Elysees of the Asian side,
crossed the 1,700-meter suspension bridge that links the two
continents and two parts of the city and began climbing
towards Taksim. The ferryboats between two parts of the city
were filled with people trying to get to Taksim.
All
the roads leading to the Gezi Park at Taksim Square, where
Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s ambition is to build
a shopping mall, were under the police control. Erdogan’s
obstinacy surely gave the impression that he wasn’t all
that concerned with environmental issues.
Protesters,
led particularly by artists, seem intent on not allowing the
government to decide Gezi Park's fate a matter of honor.
Future owners of the city, the youth of Istanbul were
flowing to Taksim.
The
sights of Istanbul resembled those of the Velvet Revolution
when I lived at Prague — and of Beijing’s Tiananmen
Square. Because of suffocating smells of
pepper gas clouds over Taksim, I couldn’t help to
recall the 1989 June Fourth Incidents. I am wondering if the
Taksim events will similarly be recorded in history.
Then
I remembered Cairo’s Tahrir Square of January 2011. What
Tiananmen means for Beijing and Tahrir means for Cairo,
Taksim means for Istanbul. That's why, although there have
been no losses of lives so far, the incidents that erupted
with brutal
pepper gas attacks by police on a group of people who
opposed the cutting of trees at Gezi Park, the incidents
quickly lost relevance with the original grievance and shook
the Erdogan government to the core like a massive earthquake.
So
much so that, the previous two nights' incidents of Istanbul
spread to 48 cities of Turkey where there were at least 90
separate protests. In London, Turks marched from Hyde Park
to Trafalgar Square to express solidarity. All the Turks at
Venice Biennale gathered at San Marco plaza to support
Istanbul. We even heard from Toronto.
A
very rarely seen solidarity of cities, country and even
abroad was born. Certainly this couldn’t anymore be
classified as a
protest action to save a few trees in Gezi Park. Such a
widespread and energetic reaction was the manifestation of
the accumulating anger against Erdogan.
It's
not difficult diagnose why. Leave aside Erdogan’s charisma
and his popularity that went beyond Turkish borders, his
increasing conceit and arrogance especially over the past
two years and his assault on democracy with pepper gas
brought about a major popular explosion that started from
Istanbul and spread nationwide.
In
the first hours of July 2, the government had lost control
of Istanbul, Ankara and Izmir, three big cities. We are now
facing a unique sight of unguided popular masses, rather
than a controlled popular movement, taking over the daily
life of cities. In that sense, Istanbul is not Prague’s
Velvet Revolution, not 1989 Tiananmen, not Beirut 2005 or
2011 Cairo. It's a situation without precedent and nobody
knows how it will end.
My
Al-Monitor colleague Amberin Zaman wrote: “Turkey is not
on the brink of a revolution. A Turkish Spring is not afoot.
Erdogan is no dictator. He is a democratically elected
leader who has been acting in an increasingly undemocratic
way. And as Erdogan himself acknowledged, his fate will be
decided at the ballot box, not in the streets.”
Clearly,
we can’t be sure of validity of any observations anymore.
After these events, nothing — including even the fate of
Erdogan — can be predictable.
* Cengiz Candar is a contributing writer for Al-Monitor's
Turkey Pulse. A journalist since 1976, he is the author of
seven books in the Turkish language, mainly on Middle East
issues, including the best-seller “Mesopotamia Express: A
Journey in History”.
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