Istanbul, unseen from executive offices, and the ordeal of public transport

Since I use public transport to commute to and from work, I can say that I am a direct witness to the phenomena described in this article. In this respect, the piece you are about to read can be seen as the testimony of a writer who travels inside buses, subways, and similar public transport vehicles, rather than one sitting at a desk.

Let us state our current situation from the outset: It is hardly possible to reconcile the reality of public transport in Istanbul, especially during morning and evening hours, with humanity. In this sense, we cannot define this transport as "human transport." You know how you force items into the trunk of your car, or how goods are packed tightly into the luggage compartments of intercity buses; this is how public transport is handled in Istanbul during rush hours. We can define it as a form of cargo transport.

This type of transport is also called "sardine-style," but that doesn't even cover it; it is an ordeal. Even "stacking" implies piling things up in an orderly fashion, and public transport falls short of even that. What was it, someone was jealous of us, right? If all that remains from this picture is jealousy, then one must also wonder where morality, reason, and conscience have gone.

Furthermore, we need to re-examine and question politics' perception of people, the place it assigns to the individual, and how much it values them, as well as its sincerity and authenticity. For those with ears to hear, the truth speaks from here.

Speaking of stacking, let us continue from there: All the words of a government that views its citizens as something less than cargo are now void. But where does the opposition stand on this point, and how visible does it make human life? What kind of test is it facing here?

To witness this test, we can recall the words of Abdullah Sevim, the Istanbul Provincial Chairman of the Felicity Party (Saadet Partisi), in 2018. That year, Sevim made the following call to the provincial chairmen of the parties in Istanbul:

"When the hours coincide with the end of the workday, let us, like the people of Istanbul, run to the metrobus station. Let us compete not just to find a seat, but to throw ourselves inside the metrobus. Let us travel in a cramped environment. Let us struggle to even breathe."

So, what was the reason for this call? Sevim explained it as follows: "Let us do this so that you too can share in the ordeal of the people of Istanbul. Let us do this so that you too can realize that transportation is not only provided by vehicles with flashing lights and heated seats. Let us do this so that you too can realize that the city cannot be managed from executive offices!"

Unfortunately, this call did not find a response. The burning reality of how people are transported like goods in a city, how they cannot board buses, metrobuses, or subways after waiting for three or four stops, how they travel standing for minutes on end, and how they are subjected to this tyranny every day, was not witnessed. And it is still not being witnessed.

Why, then?

Why does the opposition refrain from a jarring, burning, and impactful political testimony, and almost turn its back on this reality? Why does it not immerse itself in life itself, see the problem on the ground, and offer its own solutions to the problem it sees?

Is it because of the vehicles with flashing lights and heated seats, as Sevim said? Or, if we broaden the frame, is it the reality of "comfortable opposition" that prevents this?

We ask these questions because society cannot be considered independently of the opposition. The evils, tyrannies, and persecutions inflicted by governments are also somewhat related to the opposition. In this respect, even if the government is the subject of Istanbul's transport ordeal, one should not ignore its surroundings and periphery. Indeed, performative objections to oppression show complicity, not opposition.

Now, with your permission, I would like to continue with some data.

According to data released by TUIK a few years ago, the number of people per square kilometer is 41,348 in Istanbul's Güngören, 40,996 in Gaziosmanpaşa, 35,944 in Bahçelievler, 32,396 in Bağcılar, and 30,526 in Bayrampaşa. Look, this is the number of people per square kilometer. We are living in a heap, as it were. Ants likely live in more orderly, healthy, and "animalistic" conditions than we do. So, did this inhumane order, which ruins human health, the environment, and living conditions, fall from the sky? Certainly not. All of this came to life as a result of the policies implemented. It emerged as an indicator of the government's perception of people and the value it places on them. It was not foreign powers or imaginary non-domestic and non-national enemies, but the organic politics of the country that brought the nation to this state.

Another piece of data comes from the traffic congestion index. In 2021, traffic density was measured in 404 cities across 58 countries. According to this data, Istanbul was recorded as the most congested city with a traffic density of 62%. Even during this year, when Covid measures were in effect, drivers in Istanbul spent an extra 142 hours in traffic. If this is not the hijacking of time and the invasion of a lifetime, what is it?

Let us continue with one last piece of data, if you will. In Istanbul, let alone districts, some neighborhoods have a population of over 100,000. We are talking about a number greater than the population of some provinces. This means residential areas are packed to the brim, there is no empty land left to drop a needle, and thousands of people hit the traffic all at once.

Why did I share this data? Because this data also forms the source of the transportation problem that led to the writing of this article. Then, we are faced with a mentality that disregards human life, fills the city with concrete and iron, and distances social life, including transportation, from humane standards. How that mentality remains in power is a separate problem in itself. But within that problem, there is also the opposition, which we have included within the limits of our article. For in a country, the limits and power of the opposition determine the limits and power of the government.

As we bid farewell, let us state this clearly: public transport also carries the truth—with its government, opposition, and ideology—and delivers it to its destination. In that case, now is the time to look at the roads and vehicles with this perspective as well.