I am well aware of the risk of radicalization, which could lead to ethnic clashes, following the attack carried out by the Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) in Tokat and the closure of the Democratic Society Party (DTP), which has disenfranchised an important part of the electorate in the Southeast.But I cannot help wondering to what extent the press, particularly visual media such as television and the Internet, play a role in ratcheting up the tension. Is there a moment when endlessly focusing on violence, rather than on the broader picture, only serves to fuel reactions on all sides and becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Television needs strong pictures. Providing them can become an aim in itself. In the early 1980s, during the war in Lebanon, militiamen would open fire daily on each other across the green line in time for the American news networks to film sequences for their news bulletin.
No report from Beirut would be complete without its daily quota of machine gun fire, and militiamen on all sides were only too happy to oblige.
The situation here is obviously different: The anger that is spilling onto the streets is real and alarming, and it stems from popular reactions rather than armed groups.
But it is perhaps a measure of how addicted to crises we have all become that the possibility of a peaceful outcome appears discounted from the start. Apportioning blame seems more important than trying to stop the flames from spreading.
While media representatives have to cover current events, it is also important that they provide the right context. The government recently lifted the lid on the Kurdish issue, and many citizens of this country are only just discovering another reality, that was largely occulted.
Until recently they were only told that Turkey faced a problem of terrorism. Beyond PKK attacks and the deaths of soldiers, the human cost of the conflict on the Kurdish population was, and continues to be, largely ignored.
I’ve just attended a women’s conference organized by the Arı Movement, where a panel focused on ethnic identity and the “other” woman. Zozan Özgökçe, of the Van Women’s Association, spoke movingly of the sense of exclusion she experienced at school, where she felt singled out for not knowing Turkish. When fellow pupils asked her where she was from, she had to ask her mother, who told her that she was Kurdish but should not let it be known. Another women explained that her teenage daughter, for a while, blamed her for giving her a Kurdish name.
Veysel Eşsiz, from the Helsinki Citizens’ Committee, pointed out that despite official figures suggesting that 350,000 villagers have been displaced by the conflict, academic studies have shown the real numbers to be at least three times higher. Most of those who were forcibly moved never received compensation and were left to fend for themselves. Women, in particular, had a hard time when they settled in the cities of western Turkey because they did not speak Turkish.
The debate these days focus largely on recently political developments and armed attacks, but a wider focus would reveal the human toll of these discriminatory policies.
Turks and Kurds have lived side-by-side for centuries, but there are many aspects of their respective experiences that they do not know very well. Radicalization is a risk these days, but it can be prevented if civil society, politicians and members of the media work together to address fears and concerns on both sides and foster mutual understanding.
