Could that be changing? As Turkey freshens its bid for entry into the European Union, the new government is this week pushing through an ambitious package of reforms that recognizes the basic human right to freedom of speech for the first time in the country’s history. Sensing the winds of this potential glasnost, Turkish Human Rights Association lawyers threatened to take the Altinc case to the European Court of Human Rights. Last month a three-judge State Security Court in Turkey acquitted Altinc.
If enforced, the reforms could turn Turkey into the “functional democracy” it must be under EU rules to gain membership. But the reforms–which the EU says require “full implementation”–face stiff opposition from Turkey’s ultraconservative judicial and military establishments, which see free speech as a Pandora’s box that could lead to religious extremism and Kurdish separatism. Last week a key part of the pro-European government’s reform package–the abolition of the Penal Code’s catch-all Article 8, which punishes “incitement and propaganda”–was blocked by President (and former judge) Ahmet Necet Sezer. Parliament is expected to overturn his veto this week. But the president’s move was a clear sign of the judiciary’s resistance to liberalization. “Changing the laws may be easy,” reformist Justice Minister Cemil Celik said last week. “A change of mentality won’t happen so fast. It can’t be done overnight.”
Apparently not. Late last month a group of Istanbul-based actors organized a Cultural Bridge theater festival in the eastern Turkish city of Hakkari. But when he left the stage, leading actor Mahir Gunsiray and two colleagues were arrested and taken for two days of questioning at the request of Ali Yalcin, a local prosecutor. The reason? The stage set was decorated in red, yellow and green, the colors of the Kurdish flag. The actors only avoided prosecution for supporting ethnic separatism after Celik personally intervened.
The Justice minister is worried by the continuing pattern of repression. “Such incidents should not happen,” he fumes. Cilik proposes a series of classes and seminars for prosecutors, judges and regional governors to teach them the new rules, set to come into force this month–and to warn them that the fate of Turkey’s EU bid is in their hands.
Brussels will be watching closely. A key performance review is due in October and will be crucial in deciding if Turkey can start accession negotiations at the end of 2004. A few test cases could swing the EU’s decision, potentially putting the government at the mercy of a few hard-line judges. One bellwether is the ongoing trial of former lawmaker Aydin Menderes. He is accused under Article 1 of a part of the Penal Code that still covers “Crimes Committed Against Ataturk” (Kemal Ataturk is the founding father of the Turkish Republic). The state prosecutor alleges that Menderes said “damn Ataturk” at a party meeting in 1994. Menderes, who denies that he violated the law, if convicted, could face three years in jail.
Another signal case is the long-running prosecution of the leaders of the recently banned pro-Kurdish HADEP political party, who are accused of separatism. They say they’ve only been lobbying for the kinds of rights–to speak and broadcast in Kurdish–that the government is itself now introducing.
The government has an important ally in its battle with the judiciary: massive popular support. A recent survey by Ankara’s Mideastern Technical University showed that 80 percent of Turks complained that they “were not able to express their views openly.” An unprecedented momentum is building in Ankara for real, across-the-board change. How will ordinary Turks know when that shift has finally arrived? Young Bayram Altinc has a simple answer: “When I can say I’m proud to call myself a Kurd, and not be put in prison.”
