This anniversary coincided with two different incidents: First, a voice recording featuring comments of Gen. İsmail Hakkı Karadayı, chief of general staff during the Feb. 28 process, made its debut on Web sites. It contained striking information that gave a behind-the-scenes look on the Feb. 28 process, including the actions of some key players. On its 12th anniversary, debates about the Feb. 28 process were conducted in light of this new evidence -- evidence that shows that the illegal and the arbitrary were the weapons of choice of the day and that the military intervened extensively in politics. The surfacing of these recordings was followed by the release of documents revealing that then-Deputy Chief of General Staff Çevik Bir directly meddled with the judiciary. Lastly, another recording surfaced on the Internet -- this time of retired Gen. Hurşit Tolon, a defendant at the Ergenekon trial. It revealed the plots devised to ensure that this retired general could be released for medical reasons after being held under arrest for seven months. In the recording, the general criticizes the current military leadership for not sufficiently intervening with the judiciary and advises his counterpart on the illegal methods that one can use to reach this objective. The voice recordings of Karadayı, the documents evidencing Bir’s intervention in the judiciary and Tolon’s lessons on illegal methods bear witness to a powerful military autocracy that undermines the law in Turkey.The second incident was the accusation of Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan of being an autocrat. During the opening of a new public transportation project in İstanbul, several young men carried a placard reading “The last Ottoman sultan: Tayyip Erdoğan I.” The sign was obviously the work of the opposition, designed to humiliate the prime minister in a sarcastic fashion. Though its purpose was clear to many, some media organizations opted to portray the message as the work of the Justice and Development Party (AK Party). Erdoğan was accused of desiring the rule of a sultan, i.e., despotic monarchism. One of the main arguments used to indicate Erdoğan’s in his alleged quest for autocracy is the tax issue between the Doğan group and the Finance Ministry, which some say was the prime minister’s attempt to silence the media and censure it completely. (Cumhuriyet newspaper reacted by publishing an empty first page.)
Although it might not seem it at first glance, there is a very close relationship between these incidents. In the military coup they conducted 12 years ago, the military had violated the rule of law, and it censured the media -- even arranging for the dismissal of some journalists. The current government is a legitimate government, where those responsible for the past’s military autocracy are today tried in the Ergenekon trial. Indeed, there is an ongoing struggle between the desire for military dictatorship and the desire for a democratic rule. However, the media that had suffered during the military autocracy of the past is now accusing the government of seeking autocracy and is attempting to protect the defendants in the Ergenekon trial.
Military dictatorship 12 years ago
Karadayı did not deny the voice recording posted on the Internet. He only sent a letter to Milliyet columnist Taha Akyol, saying that he did not know anything about the pressures Bir exerted on the media. The content of the voice recording is disgusting, as it showed that top military commanders intervened in politics daily. We understand from the evidence that the military coup of Feb. 28 was orchestrated by the top brass, as they perpetually manipulated politics to the finest detail, interfering with everything, devising the most unbelievable plots and conspiracies.
In a meeting where the Young Civilians discussed Feb. 28, Cengiz Çandar recounted a tragedy caused by the injustices taking place around that time. The story was his own but one that could happen to anybody. Çandar had been declared a “traitor” based on the distorted statements of Şemdin Sakık. The cause of this distortion was later attributed to the military involved in the Feb. 28 process. Çandar’s father was very depressed by the claims against his son, and Çandar blames his accusers for the eventual death of his father. Who knows how many people have suffered from similar tragedies? Who knows how many people’s lives and futures were destroyed? The offenses committed at that time and their harmful consequences are well known. Now Karadayı’s recording provides further evidence that these offenses had been planned by top officials.
This voice recording also indicates that, in devising a military coup, top commanders attach special importance to abolishing parliamentary immunity, as it allows for achieving a greater influence on politics. Thus, one can understand why the Republican People’s Party (CHP) has long been a fervent advocate of abolishing parliamentary immunity.
In the democratic system, politicians are inherently open to criticism and punishment via elections. Politicians are in the spotlight every day, are held accountable to voters and pay the price for their slightest error. What about the military? Can we try a former chief of general staff for the undeniable offenses he had committed? Is it possible to adjudicate a chief of general staff who hides behind the armor of secrecy and the protection of the military judiciary?
How can the media be censored?
Akyol published a letter from Karadayı in his column in which the author defends himself regarding the dismissal of several journalists during the Feb. 28 process, placing the blame on then-Deputy Chief of General Staff Bir. This is the original story: Bir invited media bosses Aydın Doğan and Dinç Bilgin to the General Staff building and, acting “on behalf of the commander [Karadayı],” told them to dismiss some journalists. Bilgin, who was the owner of Sabah newspaper at that time, obeyed this order and dismissed Mehmet Ali Birand, Çandar and Mehmet Altan. Akyol argues that the Doğan refused to obey this order. The journalists whom Bir had ordered dismissed included Yalçın Doğan, Umur Talu and Akyol. In his letter, Karadayı briefly says in his defense that he “did not issue such an order” and blames Bir.
This short story is a generic summary of our history of military coups. Its sequel gives us an opportunity to measure its depth.
Upon an invitation by Doğan, Bir went to a meeting also attended by those journalists whose dismissals he had ordered. Akyol is an intellectual, well versed in history and sociology. Moreover, he has the courage of an intellectual. In this meeting, Bir explained his “theory of Feb. 28 reactionaryism,” infused with the trite rote of materialism. When he finished, Akyol asked: “Why are you so critical of the traditions of Turkish society? There are so many distinguished sociologists in Turkey to do this. Why don’t you consult them?” The answer he received summarizes the ideological environment of Feb. 28: “If we consult sociologists, then our determination [control] will falter.”
This is a picture of a military dictatorship that thrives on ignorance and ambitions. Tolon’s voice recording is just another glimpse into the political atmosphere of the last 12 years. It tells us how the military acquires immunity against the law, how they bypass laws and how they resort to the weapons they have to do this. What we see is not a military that defends the country, but one that pursues power and supervises everything in order to evade the rule of law. This is the grave threat to the independence of the judicial system and freedom of the press.
So there is the paradox: In one situation there is a military that exerts pressures on the press -- as in the ongoing Ergenekon trial -- and in the other, a prime minister who files suits against the press in order to protect his personal rights and is labeled as an autocrat that desires to be a sultan.
