Actions, objections, and boycotts

Masses that have severed their social, humanitarian, and even cultural ties with the political power eventually begin to question their sense of belonging to the lands they inhabit. Because humans want to feel valued. The moment they feel the absence of this, they question both themselves and those they are dealing with. 

Just like individuals, communities can experience deep restlessness, anxiety, and ultimately a social explosion the moment they are overcome by a sense of worthlessness. In a place where you are not valued, it becomes difficult not only to be happy but even to breathe. And this difficulty forces people to seek other paths, to set sail for other stories. The events Turkey has experienced recently reminded me of this reality. 

A significant portion of society feels, above all else, that their voices are not heard, their objections are ignored, they are not seen, and therefore, they are disregarded. 

So, what do you do in a place where you are disregarded?

I will come to the answer to this question in a moment, but first, let us elaborate on this issue of being disregarded with some examples, if you will. It was the days of Ergenekon and Balyoz. That is, we are talking about approximately fifteen years ago. The days when Silivri Prison turned into a concentration camp: Soldiers, writers, intellectuals, and politicians were taken from their homes one by one, sentenced to decades in prison, and some were even sentenced to life imprisonment. Along with this, just as it is today, society was in an uproar back then, saying that what was happening had nothing to do with law or justice. Let us remember that in those days, İlker Başbuğ was sentenced to life imprisonment on charges of membership in a terrorist organization and attempting a coup. Some individuals were given aggravated life sentences. In other words, if there were capital punishment, many of those names might not be alive today. Many people lost their lives in prison or shortly after due to health problems. Among the commanders who could not bear what was happening, Ali Tatar took his own life.

The political power, however, disregarded all these events, the objections of society, and the reactions. Millions of people were, in a sense, considered non-existent. In other words, the government viewed the opposition as the living dead. 

Well, could one continue to live as a dead person?

As springs come and go, seeds sprout, and seasons change, governments could not, of course, condemn society to death. Gezi gave voice in such days, in every corner of the country, in its vineyards, gardens, and neighborhoods.

This voice was not one organized by a single party or organization, nor was it one that set out on its own. It was a popular uprising created by being disregarded and marginalized. It was a collective resistance against those who betrayed cities, law, justice, and the social conscience. It was a rebellion against poverty, destructive economic policies, and attempts at an autocratic regime. In other words, Gezi was the birth of the mass actions experienced today. That is why when the young people who were children during the Gezi days take to the streets today, they march with placards reading “Ali İsmail’s siblings are here.” 

We asked above, “What do you do in a place where you are disregarded?” I think it is time for the answer. If you are not seen, not heard, and being reduced to nothing, you respond as a requirement of your right to life and your dignity; you do not see, do not hear, do not watch, and do not step into the homes, places, or lands of those who disregard you. We call it a boycott these days, but this is a legitimate defense in some sense. It is self-defense, it is self-respect. If we are to call it a boycott, it is not the broad segments of society that started this; it is the political power itself and its supporting companies, holdings, and media organizations that started it. 

The sad part is that for the last fifteen years, the political power has not only failed to see the wounds of this society, the broad segments of society whose spirits it has broken, hurt, and crippled, but it also still tries to reduce the issue to the reactions of opposition parties. However, the issue is not a party matter; it is a total struggle for existence of a people. It is a manifesto of objection against deep impoverishment, dispossession, the collapsing education system, and parliamentary politics that are increasingly losing their meaning. It is a “stop” command given from homes, streets, and social media to the never-ending political and social earthquakes. Because, as we said, this is now an attitude of self-defense and self-respect. 

Let us remember, lawyer Selçuk Kozağaçlı, who is himself in prison, said these words years ago: "What are we living for? There is no security, no work, no future, no law, no constitution. We are living, this living is very sacred, is it? It is not life itself that is sacred. What is sacred is a fair life, what is sacred is a dignified life..." 

Isn't it exactly like that? How silent can a people living with the truth of these words remain, what kind of state of mind can they experience? They cannot live; not only the daily living conditions and economic situations of people are being crippled, but their spirits are also being damaged, and while trying to live with these wounds, they are looking for ways to heal. As we have expressed, in this respect, the issue is not a party matter; and when young people took to the streets to voice their objections, they acknowledged this reality by saying: “We came for an action, not for a rally.”

Today, if an investigation is launched against the judge who issued the release decision for Ayşe Barım, if prisoners are still being transported from Gezi to Silivri as if the imprisonment of Can Atalay and other Gezi prisoners were not enough, if it is announced that investigations will be opened against people calling for a boycott, and if TRT screens are blacked out for those who object, if sick prisoners, primarily Mahir Polat, are almost condemned to death, if young people are thrown into dungeons even when there is no prison sentence, and if elected mayors are arrested, it is the people themselves who are being targeted. In that case, the answer also comes from the people, not from a party or parties. 

Those people demand law, media freedom, an education system, and justice in the economy from you; they demand that you do not use the law as an operational tool and that you do not turn the party into the state. They call for impartiality for the judiciary, from the diploma issue to corruption. They object to you portraying one place as a rose garden without thorns while likening the other side to a swamp. They say that the scales do not weigh equally, that borders are not drawn fairly, and that rights and laws are not observed equally. They say that while all opposition parties were sitting around a table and debating on TRT screens yesterday, today TRT acts like the government's channel. 

All of these are not problems that concern only one group, community, or party. What is at stake here is life itself, the prevailing political order, and the future of society. In that case, it is the people themselves who must put a stop to this course of events. Democracy also grants this right to the people. 

Maxim Gorky says in his novel Mother: “They are killing people's souls, mother. That is the real murder... They sacrifice strange people so that their homes, social status, and money are not harmed. You understand me, don't you, mother? They are drying up the people's soul and making them unable to understand anything.” What we have experienced from yesterday to today, how much it resembles this state, doesn't it? This is exactly the situation the people are aware of; the people are taking ownership of their soul and their future.