These are the ones we know about. Who can know what syntax the ones we don’t know about are arranged according to?One wonders about the moment of enlightenment when naming things. What criteria do they choose according to? What sort of mood are they in when, in a sanctified moment, they pronounce that “yes, this name is the one”? Chador, Beard, Thunderstorm -- all of these target people, all of them have blood on the horizon. We were crowned with one more coup plan the other day. Following the Cage plan, Sledgehammer -- heavy even in its naming -- struck the media. Those who valued the statement released to repudiate the coup plan more than the news content put different stories on their front pages. The hit lists and arrest lists, the lives of thousands to be taken through mosque bombings, plane crashes and at stadiums were not seen as important.
The first day that the Sledgehammer plan emerged, two journalists said in an uneasy manner, “What need is there to release the names of journalists listed; what would be the difference between this and a memorandum?” It’s not hard to guess what made them speak thusly. In the end, it was revealed that their names were on the “list of journalists to support a coup.” But really, everyone knows who stands where, and what unspoken stance it is that causes certain words to be written and phrases to be spoken. How unfortunate it is that the thought “What need is there to talk about plans and release names?” doesn’t arise out of a sense of journalistic ethics.
Just as there are those who act based on personal considerations, there are people who believe that a regime coming to power through a coup will protect their “lifestyle”! These are people who find the evil of such a regime acceptable over fears of losing their lifestyle. They are able to laughingly dismiss a plan that aims to fill the stadiums and conduct interrogations, as in Chile or Argentina. The fear of losing grip on a lifestyle can come even ahead of life itself. There’s no need to go very far. The front pages of newspapers give more than enough by way of example of the division in Turkey. What else could explain the extreme differences in attitude toward a topic that concerns all of our lives? Turkey is like two countries right now. Turkey, the country of people who have forgotten that they live underneath the same sky.
If this weren’t the case, such different reactions could not be had to something representing such evil for the lives of all of those created under that same sky. When coups are the subject at hand, preaching silence cannot be explained by any other reasoning. When this happens, it’s nearly impossible for polarization in the political sphere to be avoided. It’s high time for us to be convinced that the road to overcoming polarization doesn’t pass through politics. We must begin distinguishing and separating the political and the vital. In a country where politics and what is humane come together so rarely, we have no other choice. It’s not too late to set up a system of criteria according to what is humane.
Sometimes basic realities resulting from living under the same sky can be enough. All that is human, all that has to do with common sense and respect. All that is of this soil. Even if politics drags people toward hopelessness, the simplicity of that which is humane can indicate the right road. We can start by breaking down the questions. The Sledgehammer plan is dated 2003. Seven years have passed since then. Is there any guarantee that coup plans are not still being created in the military today?
The same laws are still in effect. Is it possible to see a glimmer of hope on the horizon while there exist politicians in the government who -- while they never show patience toward anything else -- display extreme tolerance when it comes to the coup topic? If the Justice and Development Party (AK Party) and Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan want their names etched into history, then they must work to reverse the Sledgehammer plan with the same harshness and decisiveness that the plan’s name itself evinces.