Without spelling out democracy

The commission, whose name hasn't been determined yet whose members are said to be a historic committee, has begun its work. The most important theme in the Speaker's speech, in our opinion, is democracy: "Together, with great effort, we will build a democratic, pluralistic Türkiye where everyone feels they belong." If this intention is realized, the country will have taken a significant step. So, what consequences will this democratization have for the media? History doesn't paint an optimistic picture on this matter; it reminds us of the prices paid.

Now, the name of the organization and its "founding leader" are freely uttered. Once upon a time, even mentioning its name, let alone its photograph, mentioning its symbolic colors, or publishing a mere statement were met with severe penalties. The author of these lines was tried, along with other executives, for allegedly promoting terrorist organization propaganda, facing a minimum sentence of eight years in prison, for publishing what he believed would be a clarification of an incident in the magazine he worked for. Just this group? No, those were truly difficult times for the media.

For example, you had to choose your words and definitions carefully—though you still haven't until now. There was no Kurdish problem in Türkiye. Instead, you could call it the Southeastern problem. The words you used for the organization and its founder were whispered over state radio and television or in meetings with soldiers. "Separatist, bandit, rebel, terrorist leader, baby killer, İmralı, Kandil, Dağ" were allowed. The PKK was already banned, as was "PKK leader." You couldn't use the words "militant" or "guerrilla." Especially the word "sayın" (sayın) was "cıss." When referring to a place beyond the border, "Northern Iraq" or "Northern Iraq" was more appropriate than Kurdistan. Is it a song, a folk song, God forbid? According to the head of the institution, known for banning and punishing television stations just three or four years ago for airing a folk song, a fine was imposed on the television channel for "not being sensitive." Speaking even in their own language was problematic. Terrorists weren't killed or killed in conflicts. First, they were "captured dead," then "neutralized." Whether these individuals were circumcised or uncircumcised was also important. If they were uncircumcised, they were definitely Armenian. There was no such language as Kurdish. In any case, the leader of the coup seemed to have settled the issue from the outset with his astonishing observation that "There are no Kurds, there are mountain Turks. They were called Kurds because they made a sound like "kart kurt" (wolf) when they came down from the mountains."

Still, significant steps were taken to resolve a non-issue. A ceasefire was even agreed upon. These negotiations were carried out in various locations, with different officials, in 1996, 1997, 1999, 2002, and on dates extending to the present day. The first step was taken in 1992-93, when the founder was in Damascus. The then-president, a member of parliament for a party now considered a party, and a veteran Palestinian journalist, were sent to the Kurds' uncle as what he called a "negotiator." The negotiator was subjected to severe attacks by someone who, after featuring the founder on the cover of his magazine and praising him, backtracked and constantly switched parties. As if that weren't enough, he and another journalist faced a conspiracy to discredit him in the newspapers and television channels they wrote for. According to the columnist who reported the non-member journalists to their bosses through the publication of the council he founded, those journalists were "traitors among us." Other journalists were also branded traitors in the Southeast. Unfortunately, these journalists not only faced detention and arrest, but also attempts on their lives. The name of journalist İzzet Kezer, killed by a bullet allegedly fired from a police tank, remains etched in our memories. The number of journalists killed in the region reached 20 in 1992-1993, when the events escalated again. Twenty-two journalists fled the region. Seven of these were due to work bans imposed by the organization. The organization even went so far as to close down their offices.

While journalists feared being killed or even threatened with their families, they also faced a strange request. They were to wear yellow shirts, so the police wouldn't interfere. Journalists were also under the scrutiny of laws like the State of Emergency Law. The 1990 decrees, known in the press as the "SS Decrees," empowered the government with extraordinary powers. The Anti-Terror Law, enacted in April 1991, effectively banned the gathering and sharing of news. The title of the responsible editor-in-chief was now "chief editor responsible for martial law."

Speaking of martial law, the military played a significant role in terrorism. The discussions at the summit held at the Çankaya Presidential Palace were not allowed to be published. The editor-in-chief of the newspaper, which had published an interview about the founder, was reprimanded by his commanders for "not recognizing the enemy." Now, almost all newspapers would obey the generals' orders with a "yes, yes!" The flagship refused to allow a magazine to be printed in its printing house. Writers' articles were repeatedly returned with requests for "correction." Television coverage of the terrorist raid on a police station infuriated the soldiers, and they demanded that the funerals of martyrs not be the primary news item. In such a time, astute reporters were not idle. They had the village guards wear scarves that concealed their faces, portraying them as militants, and circulating the falsehood that "we entered the camp." Those who couldn't find a competent reporter shared photos allegedly provided by intelligence officers. The developments surrounding the founder's return to Türkiye and trial resembled a public relations exercise.

State television even censored the words of a political party leader who would later become prime minister and president. Censorship, or rather, repression, was rigorous. The news of the murder of two pregnant women in Yüksekova was broadcast on state radio eight days later. The Uludere incident of 2011, still fresh in our memories, was censored live on American television, with the editor-in-chief shouting at the broadcaster: "There will be no Uludere news." The governor's statement was insufficient. The General Staff's statement should have been awaited. A few years later, during the Hendek incidents, an investigation was launched against a famous entertainer for broadcasting the remarks of a member of his program who introduced himself as a teacher. The rival newspaper's immediate request for the television station to be shut down remained just one example of hate speech.

This article attempts to briefly summarize media censorship in Türkiye within the context of terrorism. Media censorship, or rather, a media problem, continues to persist. If the parliamentary commission succeeds without spelling out the word "democracy" in its name, perhaps we can achieve a Türkiye where everyone feels they belong.

Note: Artificial intelligence was not used in this article.