What happened to Hakan Tosun?

• In 2025, journalism in Turkey remains on the list of “risky professions”

• Press Freedom Index (RSF, 2024) › 159/180

• 63 journalists are still in prison (TGS)

• Lawsuits are ongoing against 213 journalists (TGS)

• 132 journalists were subjected to physical violence or threats in 1 year (TGS)

In the Aftermath of Hakan Tosun

Hakan Tosun was an independent journalist who used his camera to amplify the voices of the streets, trees, and villagers. After he had not been heard from since October 11, his family and journalist colleagues established a communication network to search for him. And before long, a question began to circulate on X: #WhatHappenedToHakanTosun

The journalist, who was found beaten on the street and taken to the hospital, could only be reached by his relatives a day later. Hakan Tosun lost his battle for life on October 13.

The murder of Hakan Tosun has added a new link to the history of journalist murders in Turkey. Looking at the historical process, it is seen that each of these journalist murders coincides with a political turning point. According to data from the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ, 2024), in 78% of the 28 journalist murders in Turkey since 1990, the perpetrators were either never found or the cases were dragged out over time. This figure should not be seen merely as a statistic. It is proof of the practice of impunity in attacks and murders committed against the journalism profession.

Indeed, Hakan Tosun was also bothering some people with his reporting. A journalist's duty is to “bother” on behalf of the public, and in Turkey, those who bother are often silenced. The authorities' phrase, “the investigation is ongoing,” no longer convinces anyone.

In short, Hakan Tosun was murdered in the middle of the street one evening. There were witnesses, cameras were on, and the city was awake. Negligence in the hospital was discussed, and the missing seconds in the leaked footage drew attention. Public institutions remained silent at first. On the other hand, social media did not stay silent. In this state, social media has become an intermediate space where “digital justice” operates in countries where trust in the institutional justice system has weakened. The fact that society did not remain silent on social media for Hakan Tosun and created public pressure is promising. On the other hand, it shows the urgency of restoring institutional law and transparency. However, hashtag campaigns or viral calls for justice in the platformized public sphere are temporary; they mobilize emotions, not transformation. Similarly, network-based protests are strong in terms of their capacity to gain rapid visibility, but fragile in terms of their inability to sustain structural change. Because these tools cannot replace institutional mechanisms.

Stefania Milan (2020) takes this further by framing digital activism as “algorithmic resistance.” Users perform algorithmic resistance by fighting a major battle for visibility within architectures designed for commodification. This is a paradox of performative justice within control systems. Even if the digital citizen calls for justice on the platform, algorithms measure interest, not justice. The more it is shared, the more “real” it appears. In this way, a “technopolitical illusion” is created. Yet, the search for digital justice is also a matter of emotional resilience. Every tragedy creates a new wave of anger; but it quickly turns into digital exhaustion. The lifespan of a hashtag is on average 48 hours, and in the abundance of content on social media, interest and attention usually dissipate within a few hours. According to Kaun and Treré (2022), this cycle creates a new “emotional regime”: justice is no longer judicial, but an emotional performance. In this way, platforms also colonize meaning. Therefore, even if the #WhatHappenedToHakanTosun hashtag is shared millions of times, the system is not shaken when justice is not served; because the function of the platform is interaction through emotional circulation, not justice. For this reason, let us move on to the politics of not forgetting.

The Politics of Not Forgetting

#WhatHappenedToHakanTosun

This question is no longer a sentence of anger, but a civic test. If camera footage is still missing in the digital age where we are constantly monitored, the search for justice is no longer just about sharing, but archiving.

Preserving memory is a political duty.

Every video, every tweet, every testimony,

is a form of resistance against official silence.

Digital networks facilitate action, not continuity.

A hashtag creates a moment of anger;

but justice is sought when the crowd disperses. In what is conceptualized as networked affect, emotions multiply rapidly in networks and disappear just as quickly.

But as Milan also implies, true solidarity is born “not in loud moments, but in persistent small practices.”

For this reason, digital citizenship is no longer just about sharing, but about insisting. Every persistent small share, every archiving, every reminder is a politics of memory against public forgetting. It is about transforming fragile digital solidarity into sustainable public memory.

In this context, with justice turning into a “network practice” in the digital age,

a video recorded by a citizen,

a document shared by a journalist,

a chronology kept by an academic…

All help weave the fabric of digital justice. In Hakan Tosun's case, this fabric must be woven stronger again.

That is why digital justice means not just “exposure,” but remembering, reminding, and archiving.

Preserving memory is now a political act.

It is the construction of a counter-memory against official silence.

Then the responsibility is ours again.

Journalists are obligated not to forget their own losses and pain, and to follow up by tracking and investigating;

citizens are obligated to overcome their own silence and make it concrete.

Every tweet sent after Hakan Tosun's death,

can also be a contract: “We will follow this case.”

We now know that algorithms measure interest, not justice.

But turning interest into memory and creating a culture of digital tracking is now a form of political action.

If witnesses are being silenced, the citizen must speak.

Who did it, why were they silent, who silenced them?

Until these questions are answered, justice should not be a trend, it should be the agenda.

In the new form of citizenship of the digital age,

asking again every day with persistent small practices:

What changed in the file today? #WhatHappenedToHakanTosun