The Curse of the Olive

Every sun-drenched stone in Anatolia reaches toward the roots of a tree in this land. That tree is, more often than not, the olive. A symbol of immortality, a gift to the tables of the gods, a branch of peace...

Yes, from Lydia to Rome, from Byzantium to the Ottomans, whoever has laid a hand on this land has first bowed their head to the olive. Because the olive is not just a fruit; it is the name of a civilization, a culture, and even a philosophy of life.

Olive oil, described in Homer’s verses as the “essence of life,” was liquid gold applied to the bodies of goddesses and dripped onto the wounds of warriors. Today, this gold is being sacrificed for the sake of another glimmer beneath the earth.

A bill was brought to the agenda in Parliament recently that is “super” in name, but a complete disaster in content: ‘Super Permission...’

The legislative proposal, stuffed into an omnibus bill under the pretext of accelerating energy, mining, and transportation investments, was debated in the committee for 26 hours. And when I say debated, I don’t mean in a civilized, sensible manner... It was a theatrical scene where fists flew, deputies walked toward one another, and cries of "Is there any olive grove left? Protect your sanity first!" echoed.

The committee room at one point resembled a boxing ring more than a legislative chamber. In response to the objections of CHP deputies, the answers from the ruling party benches were at the level of "don't block the path of investment."

As if the issue were not energy, but the energy of intelligence... And then came the vote; in the shadow of the fights, the proposal that would uproot a country’s agricultural memory was accepted with the votes of the AKP and MHP.

From now on, olive groves will meet mining pits. The state claims it can uproot the tree and "relocate" it elsewhere. If you ask them, it’s for the public good. But we know who that public good benefits! Don't we know whose interests have been served under the guise of public good until today!

Those trees cannot be moved, they must not be moved. Because the roots of every tree are buried not only in the soil but also in time. When you move them, you forget the past and ruin the future.

Moreover, this is not just a matter of trees. It is a picture of how agricultural policies have been systematically dismantled. Local seeds have been banned, and the import of hybrids has been encouraged. Protected areas, forests, and pastures have been handed over to energy companies and mining firms. Resting in the shade of an olive tree is now forbidden; because that shade is included within the boundaries of mining licenses.

And it didn't stop there... While our agricultural lands are being plundered in this way, the remaining lands of the country have been handed over to migrants with an ‘Open door’ mentality.

Now, the footsteps of another wave of migration are echoing at our borders. The tension between Israel and Iran carries the risk of turning into a regional war. The streets of Tehran are restless; people are looking for a way to escape. That direction, as always, is us: Turkey.

Who has come until today, who were these people, and how did they enter this country? No one knows.

The wave of migration has reached such a point that it has become not just an economic, but a demographic crisis. What will we do if hundreds of thousands more people pile up at our border from Iran, or perhaps Afghanistan, tomorrow or the next day? We gave the olive groves to the mines, so when will it be the turn of the village squares and the neighborhoods?

On one hand, our lands are changing, and on the other, our social structure. But this is not a transformation; it is erosion. Political erosion, moral erosion, cultural erosion. Perhaps the only remaining point of resistance was an olive tree. And even that fit into the omnibus bill.

If one day our grandchildren ask us, “Why didn't you protect the olive groves?” will we say, "We fought a lot in the committee, but our numbers weren't enough"? Or will we look away and say, “They called it investment, they called it development, they called it public good...”?

A nation that gives up on the olive tree can be considered to have cut itself off at the roots. Because this land was blessed with the olive. Now, it is being cursed by the bulldozer.