100 years of the Republic of Turkey Fear for Ataturks

100 years of the Republic of Turkey: Fear for Atatürk’s legacy

The modern republic was founded on October 29, 1923. There is no other place where the country’s centuries-old history is reflected as much as Taksim Square in Istanbul.

People flock to Taksim Square. Cars honk, trams ring, people shout – there is never silence here in the center of Istanbul, where the paths of schoolchildren, pensioners, workers, businesspeople and tourists from all corners of Turkey and the world cross. Taksim is the center of the Turkish Republic, which turns one hundred years old on October 29th. The square reflects the history of this state like no other place in Turkey.

At the Republic Monument, in the middle of the square, visitors from all over the country pay homage to the country’s founder, Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, by taking selfies. Muhammed Ali, 28, came from Isparta in southern Turkey to show his wife Ayșe. “This monument is our Statue of Liberty,” he says. “It is an indescribable joy that our republic is turning 100 years old – it makes me feel hot and cold.” The monument shows Atatürk twice: He marches north in military uniform at the head of his soldiers in the War of Independence before 1923; After 1923 he walked south as a statesman in tails. A couple in their 50s walks around the monument in wonder. Ahmet and Ayșe Ceylan traveled from Izmir in western Turkey: “This monument means more to us than I can say,” says Ahmet. “Atatürk gave us the republic, he gave us women the right to vote and equality, that’s why we love him,” says Ayșe.

To learn more about Ataturk and his republic, just travel a few hundred meters on the bright red tram that leaves right in front of the monument. The journey continues along Independence Boulevard to the headquarters of the Association for the Promotion of Modern Life, headquarters of Atatürk’s standard bearers. Here, busts of the country’s founder line the window sills and the walls are decorated with portraits of Ataturk. Ayșe Yüksel is the president of the association. The medicine professor speaks with precise and polished phrases about her work and the importance of the republic for her personally: “Thanks to this republic I was able to study as a woman, learn a profession, get a job and participate in professional life. ” Particularly important to Yüksel is that Atatürk gave women equal rights with men after the founding of the republic. “Before, we women were nothing but slaves.”

The axis of Atatürk’s revolution was education. His association, therefore, uses donations to support thousands of students with scholarships every year so that they can attend high school and study. To mark 100 years of the Republic, the association reached its goal of awarding 100,000 scholarships. Even so, the professor fears for Atatürk’s legacy. “Today there is a danger that this republic will be replaced by a religious or religiously oriented state.”

The pogroms of 1955

Independence Boulevard leads back to Taksim; Many of the elegant 19th and early 20th century buildings on the shopping street were built by Greeks, Jews and Armenians. Today, tourists stroll down the street where multicultural coexistence in the Turkish Republic came to an abrupt end in 1955 – when lynch mobs looted shops, homes and churches here one September night and drove out long-established minorities. Today, only a few Greeks, Jews and Armenians live in Turkey.

The 1955 pogroms were a crossroads for the still young country, as were the military coups of 1960, 1971 and 1980. The 1980 coup, in particular, still has an impact today, says Arzu Çerkezoğlu. Blue jacket, red pin, loose hair: the 54-year-old woman jumping out of a car in Taksim Square is the president of the Revolutionary Trade Union Confederation of Turkey, or DISK for short. For trade unionists, Taksim has had tragic symbolic significance – since May 1, 1977, when snipers opened fire on hundreds of thousands of workers in the square on Labor Day.

Trade unionist Arzu Çerkezoğlu.

Trade unionist Arzu Çerkezoğlu. Guests

“The first shots came from where the mosque is today – at that time it was the water authority,” says Çerkezoğlu. “There was also shooting at the tall hotel on this side. Many people were overwhelmed by mass panic and crushed by police vehicles. 34 people lost their lives and hundreds were injured.” The perpetrators were never identified.

Three years after the massacre, the generals took power. DISK was banned, all collective agreements were suspended and salaries were cut. DISK was only reauthorized in 1992, but workers’ rights have not been restored to this day, says Çerkezoğlu. The results are obvious: “Out of every 100 employees in the private sector, 95 do not have union rights or collective agreements.” Trade unions are also no longer allowed to celebrate Labor Day in Taksim. The square is cordoned off every year on the eve of May 1st. Çerkezoğlu always arrives in Taksim two days in advance to place red carnations.

Turning point: the Gezi Park protests

Yonca Verdioğlu is also familiar with the police barriers in Taksim. We met them on the steps leading from Taksim Square to Gezi Park. The term park is a bit of an exaggeration for this green patch in Istanbul’s concrete desert, nearly 300 meters long and 150 meters wide and partly occupied by a high-rise hotel. Yonca Verdioğlu points to a spot near a playground. “Everywhere here was full of tents. Our feminist tent was right here.”

Protests in Gezi began in spring 2013, when demonstrations against the planned felling of trees in Gezi Park turned into mass protests against the government. Verdioğlu was there from day one. Leftists, nationalists, Kurds, LGBTI activists and feminists like them protested together in the park against the increasingly authoritarian tendencies of Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s government. “It was a unique experience for me, but I think it was also a unique experience for everyone,” says Verdioğlu.

»»Everywhere here was full of tents. Our feminist tent was right here.”«

Yonca Verdioğlu

Remember the protests in Gezi Park ten years ago.

Protesters remained in Gezi Park for two and a half weeks, and on June 15, police liberated the camp. There were deaths and injuries. Yonca Verdioğlu was gassed by police officers. But what was more painful than the bruises was the disappointment of her hopes, she says. The 50-year-old woman lists the setbacks of the last decade: the end of the peace process with the Kurds, Turkey’s withdrawal from the Council of Europe Agreement on the Protection of Women, the arrest of cultural promoter Osman Kavala and other activists from civil rights because of the protests. Still, she doesn’t want to give up. “Of course, it is not easy to live in this country. But I also know that it’s not easy to build a new life in a foreign country. That’s why we will continue to fight.”

Two years ago, Erdoğan inaugurated a huge mosque in front of Gezi Park, with space for 4,000 worshipers, which today dominates the square. Șengül Kazanır is always happy when he crosses the field. “We needed a mosque here and this one was very successful,” she says. Kazanır often walks around Taksim Square. As the local president of the women’s association of Erdoğan’s ruling party AKP, she walks around this district from morning to night.

Like Atatürk’s admirer Yüksel, Kazanır is committed to education – but for completely different reasons. The 52-year-old is currently completing her studies. Because now? Kazanır tugs at the creamy white scarf covering her hair. As a young woman in the 1990s, she was not allowed to study with a headscarf. To demand his right to education, Kazanır demonstrated with like-minded people in front of Istanbul University – and joined the movement of Erdoğan, then the mayor of Istanbul. Elected to government 21 years ago, the AKP abolished the ban on wearing the veil. “Today, young people can feel comfortable in all public spaces, institutions and schools, with or without a headscarf,” says Kazanır. “We are living in the freest period the Turkish people have ever known.”

Memories of the night of the coup

Local politicians are aware of European criticism of their view of civil liberties, but it is not shared by the majority of Turks, she says. “We saw this during the 2016 coup attempt, when youth opposed the coup plotters. They were not just AKP supporters.” Elvan Ağdaș was among those who took to the streets on the night of the coup. At the Republic Monument in Taksim, he points to a place where Atatürk walks in a civilian tuxedo to found the republic. “Here I was on the night of July 15, 2016, here at the foot of the Republic Monument – ​​and here I was shot,” he says.

Ağdaş, a tailor, was sitting with his neighbors near Taksim when Erdoğan appeared on television and called on people to take to the streets. “We followed his call.” In Taksim Square, soldiers surrounded the monument and a crowd gathered in front of it. The soldiers fired at the ground – many people were injured by the ricocheting bullets. “And two or three people, like me, were directly hit,” says Ağdaș. At the hospital he learned that the soldiers had surrendered. “That ended the coup. We had done it.” Today Turkey is a free country.

Not all visitors to Taksim Square are convinced of this. “No, I don’t see a good future for us,” says Muhammed Ali from Isparta. “I wish we could be like we were in Ataturk’s time.”

foundation

The Treaty of Lausanne in the summer of 1923 remade the borders of modern Turkey after the Greco-Turkish War of the previous year – and revised the Treaty of Sèvres, with which the remnants of the Ottoman Empire were enormously reduced.

On October 29, 1923 – the Sultan had already been deposed and the Caliphate abolished – the Grand National Assembly met in the new capital, Ankara. Parliament adopted the new constitution.

With the proclamation of the republic, the founder of the state, Atatürk, began a wave of modernization.