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Propaganda in Istanbul Propaganda in Istanbul
(about 5 hours later)
On an early December morning, I flew home to Istanbul. As I stepped out of the Ataturk airport in the euphoria of homecoming, I noticed a tombstone-like tablet. It was bathed in a seraphic light; names of men and women killed during the so-called Islamic State’s attack on the airport last June were engraved on the marble. I wondered whether I was allowed the joy of arrival as the memorabilia of horror stared at me.On an early December morning, I flew home to Istanbul. As I stepped out of the Ataturk airport in the euphoria of homecoming, I noticed a tombstone-like tablet. It was bathed in a seraphic light; names of men and women killed during the so-called Islamic State’s attack on the airport last June were engraved on the marble. I wondered whether I was allowed the joy of arrival as the memorabilia of horror stared at me.
I boarded the subway heading toward Taksim Square in the center of Istanbul. The aboveground train rushed past ugly high-rises and megamalls built as a result of the aggressive urban transformation policy of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Justice and Development Party, known as the A.K.P. Changing lines at Yenikapi, a new transportation hub on the southern shore of Bosporus, I found the subway station decorated with tall cylindrical columns displaying photographs of policemen and soldiers who died fighting the coup plotters last July 15. Below each photograph was an account of where and how the person was “martyred.”I boarded the subway heading toward Taksim Square in the center of Istanbul. The aboveground train rushed past ugly high-rises and megamalls built as a result of the aggressive urban transformation policy of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Justice and Development Party, known as the A.K.P. Changing lines at Yenikapi, a new transportation hub on the southern shore of Bosporus, I found the subway station decorated with tall cylindrical columns displaying photographs of policemen and soldiers who died fighting the coup plotters last July 15. Below each photograph was an account of where and how the person was “martyred.”
President Erdogan had turned Istanbul into a giant site for propaganda calling upon the citizens to support his plans to replace Turkey’s parliamentary system with a presidential system that would give him sweeping powers. The plan has already been approved by the Parliament, where the A.K.P. holds the majority of the seats, and its fate will be decided by a referendum on April 16.President Erdogan had turned Istanbul into a giant site for propaganda calling upon the citizens to support his plans to replace Turkey’s parliamentary system with a presidential system that would give him sweeping powers. The plan has already been approved by the Parliament, where the A.K.P. holds the majority of the seats, and its fate will be decided by a referendum on April 16.
The train stopped at Taksim Square. From my seat, I looked up at the towering Ataturk Cultural Center. Originally commissioned as an opera house in 1946 as part of Ataturk Kemal’s project of European modernity, and once home to the Turkish State Theater and State Opera and Ballet, it is now the focus of disputes over reconstruction of Turkey’s public spaces, with residents protesting the government’s effort to replace green spaces and historical buildings with expressways and shopping malls. Now it was covered with a banner displaying sunrise over Bosporus and the Turkish flag — a reference to the morning of July 16, when President Erdogan appeared on television at dawn and announced that the attempted coup had been thwarted. The train stopped at Taksim Square. I looked up at the towering Ataturk Cultural Center. Originally commissioned as an opera house in 1946 as part of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk’s project of European modernity, and once home to the Turkish State Theater and State Opera and Ballet, it is now the focus of disputes over reconstruction of Turkey’s public spaces, with residents protesting the government’s effort to replace green spaces and historical buildings with expressways and shopping malls. Now it was covered with a banner displaying sunrise over Bosporus and the Turkish flag — a reference to the morning of July 16, when President Erdogan appeared on television at dawn and announced that the attempted coup had been thwarted.
Over the next few days, every journey through Istanbul provide more examples of the government’s enthusiasm to monumentalize tragedy. A short walk from the Taksim Square, Besiktas Soccer Stadium was draped with Turkish flags and banners mourning victims of an attack by a Kurdish terrorist group. One said: “We Won’t Kneel Down.” Another read: “My Martyr, We Are On Your Path.”Over the next few days, every journey through Istanbul provide more examples of the government’s enthusiasm to monumentalize tragedy. A short walk from the Taksim Square, Besiktas Soccer Stadium was draped with Turkish flags and banners mourning victims of an attack by a Kurdish terrorist group. One said: “We Won’t Kneel Down.” Another read: “My Martyr, We Are On Your Path.”
I went over to the Bosporus Bridge. Ottoman-era mansions lined both sides of the strait; ferries and cargo ships made thin white lines on the water. The Bosporus was blue, shimmering under the sun, a constant source of solace in Istanbul. During the coup, tanks and soldiers had blocked the bridge until a civilian crowd and the police had disarmed them. Now police cars were parked on both sides, beneath the bridge’s legs — one in Europe, the other in Asia. The bridge had been renamed July 15 Martyrs Bridge.I went over to the Bosporus Bridge. Ottoman-era mansions lined both sides of the strait; ferries and cargo ships made thin white lines on the water. The Bosporus was blue, shimmering under the sun, a constant source of solace in Istanbul. During the coup, tanks and soldiers had blocked the bridge until a civilian crowd and the police had disarmed them. Now police cars were parked on both sides, beneath the bridge’s legs — one in Europe, the other in Asia. The bridge had been renamed July 15 Martyrs Bridge.
Every time I walked into a store, I found the shopkeepers glued to a television set. Turkish state television had taken to broadcasting live the funerals of those killed in terrorist attacks. The networks would stay in touch with the families of the deceased and construct sentimentalized narratives on the aftermath of the tragedies. A cult of martyrdom reminiscent of that in post-revolution Iran was being manufactured in Turkey.Every time I walked into a store, I found the shopkeepers glued to a television set. Turkish state television had taken to broadcasting live the funerals of those killed in terrorist attacks. The networks would stay in touch with the families of the deceased and construct sentimentalized narratives on the aftermath of the tragedies. A cult of martyrdom reminiscent of that in post-revolution Iran was being manufactured in Turkey.
His eye on the April referendum to establish a monarchical presidential system, Mr. Erdogan made an unmistakable choice to blow up, rebrand and capitalize on the collective anxiety instead of soothing it.His eye on the April referendum to establish a monarchical presidential system, Mr. Erdogan made an unmistakable choice to blow up, rebrand and capitalize on the collective anxiety instead of soothing it.
In December, the few remaining foreign journalists in the country received an odd, failed-coup-themed holiday gift box, featuring a piece of marble that had fallen from the ceiling when the Parliament building was bombed. The failed coup was also the subject of a controversial kindergarten performance in central Turkey, where children lay in front of the tanks, and “practiced” communal prayer after preventing the coup. A municipality in Istanbul is running a July 15 essay contest in English, seeking submissions in eight prize categories.In December, the few remaining foreign journalists in the country received an odd, failed-coup-themed holiday gift box, featuring a piece of marble that had fallen from the ceiling when the Parliament building was bombed. The failed coup was also the subject of a controversial kindergarten performance in central Turkey, where children lay in front of the tanks, and “practiced” communal prayer after preventing the coup. A municipality in Istanbul is running a July 15 essay contest in English, seeking submissions in eight prize categories.
One of my favorite things about Istanbul is its ever-changing walls. What is plastered and painted tells you the city’s mood. After protests in 2013 against President Erdogan’s plans to build a shopping mall in Gezi Park, the walls were alive with humor and dissent. This time around, every flat surface — a rooftop, a billboard, a blank wall — had A.K.P. propaganda on it. It was uninteresting and repetitive: “We Are the Nation. We Won’t Let Turkey Fall Victim to Coup and Terrorism” and “My Martyr, I Celebrate Your Martyrdom.”One of my favorite things about Istanbul is its ever-changing walls. What is plastered and painted tells you the city’s mood. After protests in 2013 against President Erdogan’s plans to build a shopping mall in Gezi Park, the walls were alive with humor and dissent. This time around, every flat surface — a rooftop, a billboard, a blank wall — had A.K.P. propaganda on it. It was uninteresting and repetitive: “We Are the Nation. We Won’t Let Turkey Fall Victim to Coup and Terrorism” and “My Martyr, I Celebrate Your Martyrdom.”
“Sovereignty belongs to the nation,” a line from the Turkish Constitution, which Mr. Erdogan has taken to mean that his electoral victories enshrined the national will in his person, was displayed on almost every bus and subway stop. One morning, I saw some electricity and water bills dropped at my doorstep. On the lower part of the bills, the A.K.P.-run distribution companies had printed a thumb-size Turkish flag and the sovereignty line. . Growing up in Kemalist Turkey, I was taught that the Turkish flag, the Quran and bread were equally holy, and were never to be put on the floor. Instinctively I picked up the electricity bills and placed them on my landlady’s dining table.“Sovereignty belongs to the nation,” a line from the Turkish Constitution, which Mr. Erdogan has taken to mean that his electoral victories enshrined the national will in his person, was displayed on almost every bus and subway stop. One morning, I saw some electricity and water bills dropped at my doorstep. On the lower part of the bills, the A.K.P.-run distribution companies had printed a thumb-size Turkish flag and the sovereignty line. . Growing up in Kemalist Turkey, I was taught that the Turkish flag, the Quran and bread were equally holy, and were never to be put on the floor. Instinctively I picked up the electricity bills and placed them on my landlady’s dining table.
President Erdogan might be so insistent with his messaging because he has been at war with Turkey’s journalists. Since the failed coup attempt, 178 media outlets have been shut down, 2,500 journalists have lost their jobs, and more than 150 journalists remain jailed. YouTube, Twitter, Facebook and WhatsApp are routinely blocked.President Erdogan might be so insistent with his messaging because he has been at war with Turkey’s journalists. Since the failed coup attempt, 178 media outlets have been shut down, 2,500 journalists have lost their jobs, and more than 150 journalists remain jailed. YouTube, Twitter, Facebook and WhatsApp are routinely blocked.
When it comes to censorship and propaganda, Turkey has greater ambitions. In January, the federal Ministry of Communication announced a national search engine and browser called Geliyoo. Built by two Turkish engineers and supported by the Turkish government, Geliyoo will automatically block websites and content that aren’t fit for “Turkish culture and familial values.” Geliyoo also features two long fan letters to President Erdogan and generates a referendum-themed Twitter hashtag supporting his push for constitutional transformation.When it comes to censorship and propaganda, Turkey has greater ambitions. In January, the federal Ministry of Communication announced a national search engine and browser called Geliyoo. Built by two Turkish engineers and supported by the Turkish government, Geliyoo will automatically block websites and content that aren’t fit for “Turkish culture and familial values.” Geliyoo also features two long fan letters to President Erdogan and generates a referendum-themed Twitter hashtag supporting his push for constitutional transformation.
In the once-bustling cafes and restaurants of Istanbul, people are paying equal attention to potential new terrorist attacks and the decibel of their voices when they speak of the government. Mr. Erdogan’s crackdown has moved far beyond the supporters of Fetullah Gulen, the cleric blamed for the coup, to include almost every dissenting voice across the political spectrum. In early February, 330 university faculty members, united only by their opposition to Mr. Erdogan’s policies over the years, lost their jobs.In the once-bustling cafes and restaurants of Istanbul, people are paying equal attention to potential new terrorist attacks and the decibel of their voices when they speak of the government. Mr. Erdogan’s crackdown has moved far beyond the supporters of Fetullah Gulen, the cleric blamed for the coup, to include almost every dissenting voice across the political spectrum. In early February, 330 university faculty members, united only by their opposition to Mr. Erdogan’s policies over the years, lost their jobs.
On one of my last days in the city, I took the ferry across the Bosporus to the Asian side. I looked out of the window, at Topkapi Palace and Hagia Sophia from the distance. On the wall at the far end of the ferry, Mr. Erdogan’s face appeared on a LCD screen. I observed how those who don’t agree with him resist with an act of learned muting, looking away and putting their headphones on — even when they don’t have anything to look at or listen to.On one of my last days in the city, I took the ferry across the Bosporus to the Asian side. I looked out of the window, at Topkapi Palace and Hagia Sophia from the distance. On the wall at the far end of the ferry, Mr. Erdogan’s face appeared on a LCD screen. I observed how those who don’t agree with him resist with an act of learned muting, looking away and putting their headphones on — even when they don’t have anything to look at or listen to.
I looked back at the Bosporus in the dusk, my gaze lingering on the Byzantine walls surrounding the Old Peninsula, toward the fish-sandwich shops under the Galata Bridge, turning their lights on. The water seemed to be the only surface free of government propaganda.I looked back at the Bosporus in the dusk, my gaze lingering on the Byzantine walls surrounding the Old Peninsula, toward the fish-sandwich shops under the Galata Bridge, turning their lights on. The water seemed to be the only surface free of government propaganda.