Gülayşe Koçak wrote: Fanaticism and Berrin Sönmez's action

My academic friend, Dr. Berrin Sönmez, is a feminist writer. She is one of the founders of the Capital Women's Platform and the EŞİK Platform, and a valued activist who advocates for women, children, human rights, democracy, and peace.

When we met a few years ago, she was wearing a headscarf. Following the Directorate of Religious Affairs' call for "modest decency" in its Friday sermon dated August 1, 2025, regarding women's bodies, appearance, and attire, Berrin said, "I'm taking my headscarf off now in case the headscarf becomes mandatory."

In the 1990s and early 2000s, the only covered women you'd encounter on the secular streets of major cities were, at best, those who went to the local cleaning services. Unlike today, women wearing headscarves weren't allowed in just anywhere. A dear, religious academic friend of mine once told me how, after a conference, when the speakers all went to the Mülkiyeliler Union for tea, she was the only one not allowed in because of her headscarf.

It hasn't been twenty years since those wearing headscarves weren't allowed into Starbucks.

The injustice and oppression these women suffered, especially their deprivation of their right to education, seemed unbearable to me.

During those years, the devil would occasionally nudge me (what irony!): “Cover your head!” If I covered my head for a month, for example, and walked around secular neighborhoods… If I went to Starbucks and made a big fuss when they wouldn’t let me in… I wondered what would happen? Would it make a difference?

Don't get me wrong; it's not because I suddenly became a devout woman; I'm a secular woman, unaffiliated with organized religion. But the women in my circle were unaware of, or chose not to know about, the suffering faced by women wearing headscarves. Gandhi has a beautiful saying: "You can never wake someone who pretends to sleep."

This is what I was having a hard time understanding, because it was very strange that those who said, “Knowledge, wisdom!” “Education comes first!” “The importance of scientific thought!” “They are keeping women ignorant!” etc., ignored the fact that girls cannot study because of the headscarf.

In 1999, I watched with bated breath on television as Virtue Party deputy Merve Kavakçı was expelled from Parliament simply for appearing wearing a headscarf. (Eight years before that, I witnessed Diyarbakır deputy Leyla Zana being expelled from Parliament for adding the phrase " I am swearing this oath for the brotherhood of Turks and Kurds" in Kurdish to her oath. My circle remained indifferent to this, and in fact, they were angry not at the parliament but at Zana – but that's a separate topic. (This region has caused, and continues to cause, so much anger and rebellion!)

When I think of fanaticism, the first thing that comes to mind is football. Fanatic fans of a football team remain loyal to that team no matter how poorly it performs or how many times it breaks the rules. Fanaticism is blindly supporting one side.

There are those who proudly proclaim, "We, as a family, are from the XX team"; "I've never voted for anyone other than the XX party in my life." Football, political parties, ideas, opinions, beliefs... All "-isms" and "-isms" put blinkers on a person. The world is viewed through those glasses. Bigotry, fanaticism, dogmatism, militancy... All are siblings with fanaticism.

Fanatics never switch sides. Everything is either black or white; there's no gray area. They're blind to the other side's grievances. The idea that "If the oppression is on our side, I'm not on our side" is far removed from them.

I think the reason for the secularists' silence when the headscarf was banned was pure fanaticism. Our team is nice, their team is sloppy . Whatever happens to them, they deserve it because they're the opposing team.

Fanaticism isn't sympathy; it's extremely dangerous. We see Zionists; they haven't been able to separate themselves from a belief that dates back thousands of years. They feel entitled to kill tiny babies because fanaticism means risking death and killing when necessary. We've seen ISIS; we see what's happening in Syria.

When Berrin Sönmez was a university student in 1981, there was talk that the September 12 coup would ban headscarves in universities; she covered her head then. "For me, this was a personal, unorganized form of resistance," she says. A resistance against the patriarchal system's attempts to keep women in line.

Berrin has been making headlines since she took her hijab off two weeks ago. If it weren't for her action, I personally wouldn't have bothered to read the entire sermon from the Directorate of Religious Affairs. So, with her action, Berrin has drawn attention to an issue that deeply concerns not only women but also everyone who believes in human rights, law, and justice. Yes, it concerns men too—if they want to live in a country that respects human rights.

My secular friends around me would look at me with surprise and sometimes anger whenever I tried to explain something, be it about the headscarf issue, the Kurdish issue, or why I was trying to learn Kurdish.

Those denied access to education because of their attire were not pious men, but pious women; and those who obstructed it were, of course, men. Because I felt as if the injustices were being done to me as a woman, I wanted to experience wearing a headscarf, try to understand the experiences of these women who were subjected to so much oppression, and fight for this cause alongside them.

In the 1990s… At a charity bazaar organized by the Women's Solidarity Foundation, of which I was a founding member, I witnessed two women wearing headscarves, who were holding a booth, being offended by one of the foundation's directors. I wrote a letter to the renowned professor who was the foundation's president, expressing my objections and explaining that we owed these two women an apology. He never responded. So I resigned from the foundation. This was the first shameful act I had ever committed against someone considered "other."

My second act of shame was silently joining a march organized by women wearing headscarves. Being in a foreign "neighborhood" felt very different and good.

This was happening in Ankara; my entire circle was secular; I had no one I could talk to about these issues, not a single religious acquaintance. I didn't know how to make friends.

One day, I mustered up all my courage and invited the headscarved cashier, whom I'd always exchanged casual greetings with, to tea at the haberdashery on Tunalı Hilmi Street, where I sometimes shopped after work. She was surprised but accepted. And so, a friendship began between us.

This was my first contact with someone wearing a headscarf.

After all, I didn't cover my head or anything; it remained a bit of a fun dream in my mind.

But I was speaking out a lot about headscarved women's right to education, and the reactions were harsh. Some people were upset with me. One of my relatives said, half-anger, half-fear, "I wouldn't be surprised if we see you in a black burqa soon!" Suddenly, it was as if I'd become an outsider. Voices were rising, language was becoming increasingly violent; it felt like they wouldn't react this way if I ended up in a brothel.

“It is their choice; let them take off the veil!” “There is nothing of the sort in the Quran anyway!” “They wear it not because they believe in it, but because someone forces them to, or as a symbol!”

In short, the fact that thousands of women in the country were deprived of their right to education because of their attire was not even being discussed!

Now I know; the real issue wasn't the Quran or the symbol. The issue was that the headscarf represented the "opposing team," meaning the victims were also part of the "opposing team." Therefore, the issue didn't concern us. (Just as the Kurds' right to speak their native language and equal citizenship doesn't concern us.)

The issue was fanaticism, which forces one to take sides and blinds one to the suffering of the other side.

I was horrified when I read the Diyanet's sermon. I won't comment on it.

I understand why Berrin reacted so strongly. I'm devastated on behalf of my country that a state institution that can spend so much on lavish extravagance with my tax dollars could produce such a misogynistic text that so brazenly violates the Constitution's principle of equality.

If I had covered my head in the 1990s, I would have done so not just for women who wear headscarves, but for the equality and human rights of all women . I would have done so against the arrogance and impudence that believes it has the right to interfere with women's clothing and lifestyle.

If I had covered my head, I wouldn't have been guided. Berrin didn't stray from the faith just because she uncovered her head. She uncovered her head because she believed all women's human rights were in danger; not to align herself with the secular community.

But what is this hateful anger in the religious segment, and this hand-wringing joy in the secular segment?

Being a fanatic is very comfortable; it requires no mental effort because fanatics don't look at the heart of the matter. They don't question. They get angry when questioned. They don't care about the other side's view because they're already right.

Haven't we already overcome the headscarf issue? Is there still a distinction between uncovered and covered women?

Twenty years ago, when I first met my dear friend Yıldız Ramazanoğlu and walked through Beyoğlu, everyone turned to us, looking at us with surprise, some with disapproval. Our eyes were unaccustomed to such a sight. Realizing this, we stubbornly continued our stroll, arm in arm, cheerfully, and we had a blast!

Is there such a topic left today?

But fanaticism and bigotry have this characteristic:

Fanatics cannot renew themselves. The fanatic, stereotypical mindset cannot easily internalize the fact that the secular/religious divide is still a thing of the past. It has still not overcome its desire to mold everyone into one type of person, one truth, one acceptance, and to make everyone resemble itself, its intolerance of those who differ from it, and its arrogance of self-superiority.

In its Friday sermon dated August 1, 2025, the Presidency of Religious Affairs (Diyanet) listed the penalties awaiting women if they did not dress as prescribed by the Presidency (letting their headscarves hang over their collars, etc.), and then concluded the sermon with the following sentences, which furthermore invited men to interfere with women's choices: "Anyone who remains silent when moral and decency standards are violated is under a great sin. Because protecting the chastity, decency, and morality of our generation is our common responsibility."

Excuse me, but isn't this incitement to commit a crime?

You may or may not find Berrin Sönmez's concerns realistic, but expressing these concerns and reacting to them falls under freedom of expression. Everyone who believes in human rights, fairness, and justice must unite and protest this dangerous sermon, which reduces morality to women's bodies and attire.

But when you look at the reactions, you see that not many are criticizing the "esasoğlan" (essentials) and the Directorate of Religious Affairs. The object of the reaction is Berrin, who has uncovered her head. This Berrin is not the activist Berrin Sönmez, whose action demonstrates resistance; it's as if she's a pawn, a player, who, having been on the religious team in a match, has switched to the secular team, having sold out her team.

But Berrin didn't change teams! Berrin is the same human rights defender, the same Muslim Berrin!

But fanaticism blinds and stultifies. It makes one look at the finger, not at what the finger is pointing at.

Devout people are questioning Berrin's Muslim faith, feeling betrayed. Once upon a time, I thought naive, devout people were kind. Oh, what indignities, what shameful posts on social media! What unspeakable, macho comments! What a lynching!

"It just came to mind that there were people in the military who were hungry a long time ago. Those who know, know :))"

"Ugly woman! The place is a complete garbage dump of calves, legs, belly and breasts."

Fanaticism hooliganizes. It makes ugly.

In an interview , when asked whether she had received any reactions on the streets after taking off her headscarf, Berrin said, with slight embarrassment, that she had not yet gone out since the day she took off her headscarf.

When I heard this, I thought, "Who knows how difficult it must be for a woman accustomed to wearing a headscarf to uncover her head? What a tremendous resistance. For a secular woman, perhaps it's a feeling of nudity, like walking around the street in her underwear."

When I think about it, the secularists' cries of joy seem even more terrifying. They weren't even aware of the underlying meaning of Berrin's statement, or the danger she was trying to draw attention to. What they were experiencing was the joy of "our side scored!"

“Fight against reactionaries and bigots!”

“How fitting it is to uncover your head.”

And then there are those who are confused:

"Who is Ali Erbaş to interfere with women's attire? He should learn Arabic first. He is one of the last people who should teach us religion."

In my opinion, fanaticism is the root of all the problems and troubles in the world.

In our society, obedience is taught from a young age; saying "no" is not. Curiosity and doubt , two of the most precious emotions, are suppressed. In what other language do you hear such a dreadful phrase as "Don't invent things for us"?

Children are led to view life in black and white, becoming increasingly fanatical with terrible questions like, "Do you love your mother or your father more?" This goes as far as asking, "Who is your favorite team or your spouse?"

Fanatics exist by rote; of course, they also shout cliché sentences and slogans in their lynching campaigns on social media.

Fanaticism is the most comfortable state in the world because it requires no thought. The belief that there can be no other truth completely disables reason. Any evidence presented to the contrary is rejected outright. It is primitive.

Consider the fierce fanaticism of pro- and anti-vaccine advocates that emerged during Covid.

Consider nationalism: Turks are supreme.

Consider Kemalism: Atatürk cannot be criticized.

Consider religiosity (every religion): My religion is the superior one.

My team is the biggest, there is no other team!

If Berrin Sönmez's unveiling made you happy in the slightest, or if it bothered you in the slightest, pay attention: This is a sign that you still haven't accepted the normalization of relationships between women, that you're still stuck in the past, that you still want to make the other person like you. You're still looking at the finger.

In this case, take a long look in the mirror: The alarm bells of fanaticism may be ringing for you.