The place where oppression is tested: Galata Bridge

If words reflected reality, we would not be looking at behaviors, that is, at actions—their counterparts in life. Yet we do look, because we know that even the most guilty people in the world can use the most innocent words to exonerate themselves. Moreover, bloody dictators choose flowery words to hide their evil, presenting poison in a golden cup.

To avoid being deceived by presentations, spectacles, and propaganda, one must look at life and what is being inflicted upon it in every situation. Let us look then, for the truth speaks precisely here. One of those voices was recently invoked by independent MP Salih Uzun. Specifically, Uzun called out to Memur-Sen Chairman Ali Yalçın on his social media account, saying, "Do one action for civil servants and laborers; close the Galata Bridge for the laborers as well." This was a very pertinent call. After all, Ali Yalçın was the Chairman of Memur-Sen, and he was the one conducting negotiations with the government as the head of the authorized confederation. In short, he was in a directly responsible position; responsibility requires accountability, but those who are irresponsible do not assume it. Ali Yalçın has not responded to that call to this day, meaning he did not fulfill the requirements of his affiliation. In that case, he either sees what is happening as normal, or he wants to continue his duty as an irresponsible official. I can hear you saying, "How can there be an official who does not take responsibility?" Of course, there cannot. Especially if those people claim to care about "religious sensitivities" and build their foundation of existence upon that.

In fact, this situation is not unique to Ali Yalçın. Unfortunately, the dominant interpretation of religion and the political structures, sects, communities, and non-governmental organizations on its periphery stay away from the "responsibility" ground we mentioned, and even though they claim to carry a religious mission, they do not act in accordance with this mission, at least within the framework of "the rights of the people" (kul hakkı). If they had, we would have seen and witnessed it. We did not; and not just us, but the streets, avenues, and squares did not witness it either. Yet, is the fact that millions of people spend their lives in deprivation and poverty, and that the government deems slavery acceptable for millions and leaves them in need of pennies, not sufficient reason to take to the streets? How, then, should oppression be defined? If you cannot meet your basic needs such as health, housing, and even nutrition in the literal sense of the word, what would you be living, and how? The elimination of minimum living conditions is the elimination of the right to life. Let alone those in positions of responsibility, a sensitive person should rebel against this reality. However, the place is overflowing with irresponsible people playing dead; what we see is that the MP's call does not find an echo in those offices for this reason.

We are not loading words with a burden they cannot carry. If, even with the price hikes, pensions and even the minimum wage remain below the hunger threshold, let alone the poverty line, and millions of civil servants are left to face poverty, the squares should have been overflowing, and the cries of oppression we mentioned at the beginning of our article should have shaken the earth and sky. Yet it was not done; neither Ali Yalçın nor those who take action against oppression chose to remain blind and deaf to their own country. When it came to their own supporters, they neither saw the oppression nor could they object to the pain experienced by millions of people. If this was not complicity in oppression, then what was it? We are not loading meaning onto words; we are simply calling things by their names.

One point needs to be clarified here: As we have stated, remaining silent in the face of oppression is not limited to today, nor is it limited to one name. This is an understanding inherited from the dominant interpretation of faith from yesterday to today. Otherwise, the dominant circles of today could not have acted with such "irresponsibility." We can say that a kind of tradition continues. For example, the dominant tradition has not questioned either the early period of Islamic history or the political actors of that history on the political-economic plane. It did not address oppression within this framework, and did not see the rising palaces, the masses condemned to poverty, and the wars between Muslims in this context. Yet, what happened was shaped precisely upon this reality; circles focused on wealth, property, and spoils took their place in the pages of history to seize power. And there were those who voiced this reality in those days as well; we can cite only two names as examples at this point: Ammar b. Yasir and Abu Dharr. Those who are curious about the details can embark on a historical journey with these names.

At this point, I think we can ask the following questions based on yesterday and today: Does religion consent to the people being left to slavery, to the people being condemned to deprivation; does it approve of the wealthy and the powerful living it up in luxury while the people struggle with hunger? If so, let us know. If not, then you are legitimizing these crimes/sins in the name of religion, inventing a religion according to the day, and determining the qibla according to the powerful. There is no other explanation for this; this is what both history and the time demand we see.

Karl Marx says, "If appearances were reality, there would be no need for science." Whoever uses which word, whoever calls whom to what—from oppression to justice, from religion to faith—and whatever claim they set out with, from their party building to the community they belong to, they must be tested by it in all areas of life. In this sense, the Galata Bridge is the place where "oppression" is tested. We see that they failed this test; let it be recorded.