Perhaps in the cold, perhaps far away

“Silivri is cold!” We heard it often, sometimes as a threat, most of the time as an expression of concern.

Whether its coldness should be a matter of concern is a separate topic of debate, but Silivri must still be cold. It just stands there. Yet, we don't hear this phrase as much as we used to. Because there is no threat anymore. Due to certain states of continuity, concern cannot even be voiced.

It is enough to express that a segment of our people... a very limited segment... a segment that is always the same... a segment that gives the impression of working full-time as if to say, 'What shall we be offended by today?'... a segment whose feelings are 'made to feel' as if they only arise after events have already taken place... is hurt by something.

This can be expressed! Because there is freedom of expression! At a level that changes depending on which unit of measurement is needed that day on the other scale of the justice balance, in the office of being offended.

**

“Fezzan is far away!” A hundred or so years ago, such a phrase did not seem to exist.

Fezzan existed, and it exists. Today, it is the region in the desert part of Libya. It was far, much farther under the conditions of that day. It was one of the places of exile for Abdul Hamid II. Where he sent his opponents.

Fezzan was far. The Young Turks' desire for people with different ethnic, religious, and sectarian differences within the Empire to live equally under a constitutional order was strong. Even if only at a constitutional level, equal... They were indisputably progressive.

Decisions regarding a whole country should not have been left to one person, to the words coming out of the Sultan's lips. Different thoughts should have been expressible. They should have been debatable so that a common mind could be reached. For this, they said consultation; they said parliament.

They published what could be considered the first Ottoman newspapers with this intention. With the intention of spreading and debating their thoughts.

The first examples of Western literary genres were given during this period. Novels, for example. They were published in parts in newspapers, and some showed the Ottoman people that there were worlds other than the one they lived in. Mostly from the Western world. To the extent that their authors could imagine.

Namık Kemal did not write “Vatan yahut Silistre” (Homeland or Silistre) just to have written a theatrical work, or so that his name would be mentioned in textbooks in the future. “Homeland” was a new concept, and all paths that would make it possible to reach the masses with his thoughts were being tried.

The first generation of Young Turks succeeded in having the new Sultan, Abdul Hamid II, proclaim a constitution, the Kanun-i Esasi, in 1876. A constitution also meant the opening of the Parliament.

Not everyone could vote, but deputies (mebus) elected from all corners of the country had come together in Istanbul, in the Parliament: Turks, Arabs, Kurds, Laz, Vlachs, Albanians, Bosniaks, Greeks, Armenians, Bulgarians, Jews.

The constitution had made knowing Turkish a requirement both to be a civil servant and to be elected as a deputy. These deputies with different languages needed to understand each other. However, even this would not be enough.

The famous Ahmet Midhat Efendi had undertaken the task of recording the speeches of the deputies in the first Parliament and publishing them in the state's official gazette. The language spoken was Turkish. The mother tongue of some of the deputies was also Turkish. However, different dialects were being spoken in the Parliament.

The same word could be pronounced in different ways. There was no institution like the Turkish Language Association yet, nor a dictionary or spelling guide in today's sense. The difficulties of putting Turkish sounds into writing with Arabic letters were an added burden.

According to rumor, Ahmet Midhat Efendi, who was trying to record the speeches in a common writing system as much as possible, could not cope with the situation one day during a heated session due to all these difficulties and fainted.

However, this task of Ahmet Midhat Efendi did not last very long. When some criticisms directed at the Parliament due to the ongoing war with Russia (the 93 War) annoyed him, Abdul Hamid II stopped the functioning of the Parliament. He did not implement the Kanun-i Esasi, which had been proclaimed with great hopes. For exactly 30 years.

Thus, “despotism” (istibdat), which we have heard much more often compared to ten or fifteen years ago, became the name of Abdul Hamid II's oppressive administration that limited rights and freedoms.

The press, which had never experienced a spring atmosphere until that day, was subjected to even heavier censorship. The official who came to examine the newspapers before they were printed, the censorship officer, would remove the writings and words he did not like without caring about the blank lines left behind: anarchy, revolution, despotism, explosion, reform, parliament, freedom, public, republic, society, dictator, democrat, spy...

Spy! Because Abdul Hamid II had established a network full of official and volunteer spies, agents, and informants. A network that normalized a life where even people chatting at the same table could report each other, leaving no room for a sense of social trust. A network that did not even let one say “Fezzan is far away!” with a sense of concern...

However, those to be sent to Fezzan, the Young Turks, did not stop the struggle. As the representatives of the first generation passed away one by one, a new generation took over the struggle. Primarily under the umbrella of the Committee of Union and Progress. Their slogans were clear: “Liberty, equality, fraternity, justice.”

After a tough process, the Committee of Union and Progress proclaimed the constitutional regime in Manastır on July 23, 1908, according to today's calendar. Seeing the dimensions the opposition against him had reached, Abdul Hamid II was forced to announce one day later, on July 24, that he had put the Kanun-i Esasi into effect and that elections would be held for the opening of the Parliament.

Liberty had been proclaimed. Within a few months, dozens of new newspapers with different ideological tendencies began to exist with tens of thousands of sales in total.

In the order of liberty, there was no place for censorship officers. Some newspapers closed their doors to censorship officers on July 24 itself.

**

Everything did not become rosy after July 24, of course. But a milestone had been experienced. The Turkish Journalists Association declared July 24 as Press Day in 1948, with the spirit of journalists who applauded liberty and closed their doors to censorship officers.

During the interim regime period formed by the March 12, 1971 Memorandum, the name of Press Day was changed to the Day of Struggle for Press Freedom on the grounds that the increasing pressures resembled the Abdul Hamid II period and there was no holiday to celebrate.

The 1970s were also the years when the transformation from press to media took place. With the neoliberal transformation, while the public nature of the communication field weakened, media organizations were reorganized with market logic, and news was increasingly becoming a commodity.

The concentration of media ownership in holdings and the decisive nature of the relationships established with governments left the press worker facing direct pressure at times, and self-censorship, which could also be voluntary, at other times.

With the 2000s, digital platforms, especially social media, partially removed the production of news and opinion from the monopoly of professional media producers, making it possible for much wider segments to participate in public debate.

However, the fact that platforms are under the control of global technology companies and that digital content is increasingly subject to audit and sanction processes has moved the struggle for freedom of the press and thought to a new ground.

The name of the struggle has not changed. Only the channels have expanded. For this reason, July 24 will keep its place in the common memory of those who are perhaps in the cold, perhaps far away, but always in search of Liberty, and those who struggle for freedom of the press, thought, and expression.