Anasayfa
tarafından scarface Çarş. Ekim 08, 2008 1:43 pmAfter years of remaining dormant due to disillusionment and the suffering of past generations of youth activists, teenagers are slowly but decisively pushing themselves into Turkey’s complex political arena. The politically active teenagers and young men and women of today need to start from scratch, with the country’s past experience with leftist politics seemingly only hindering their efforts
Along Istanbul's main thoroughfare, İstiklal Street, street vendors sell dried lavender, musicians play for change and a few lottery ticket salesmen offer the chance for instant fortune. Among the crowd, there are young women and men wearing green parkas, donning “leftist mustaches” and hawking Marxist publications – a clear signal of the political awareness of Turkish youth.After years of remaining dormant due to disillusionment and the suffering of past generations of youth activists, teenagers are slowly but decisively pushing themselves into Turkey's complex political arena.“When they ask me if I am going to save the country, I say yes. Yes, I am going to save the country,” said Erdem Yalçın, a university student at Istanbul Technical University, and a member of Turkish Communist Party, or TKP.A politicized and organized youth was a significant part of the Turkish left's journey during the 1970s. It was the Sept. 12, 1980, military coup, the third in 30 years, preceded by a decade of bloodshed between leftist and rightist groups that, for many, put a stop to anything resembling an organized political youth. The slow return to democracy over the next decade made it impossible for active political participation by the youth, who were alleged to be mainly apolitical throughout the 1980s and much of the ‘90s. The politically active teenagers and young men and women of today need to start from scratch, as the country's past experience with leftist politics seemingly only hindering their efforts.Families are usually afraid of any problems that their children potentially face, especially with state institutions like police. The past only ameliorates this fear, especially for those families who lived through the '60s and '70s with severe street clashes and the post-coup oppression of the left. A deep desperateness on the part of parents, teachers and friends accompanies these fears. Some remarks are the usual: “Is it your job to save the country? Turn your head back to your books, you have many exams,” while others reflect the disappointment and cynicism of bitter experiences, “Come on, we have tried in the past and cannot succeed.”“We always meet with those kinds of sentences,” said 16-year-old Pelin Şener, who is a member of a leftist organization at high school, Revolutionary High School Students, or Dev-Lis. “Especially the old leftists think that we are fooled. When I tell people what I try to do, they eventually say ‘you are right.' But they just say it. I do something,” she said. Şener's family does not know about their daughter's affiliation. “I tried to tell them. But as they are old leftists, they do not look warmly at the issue,” she said.
Life changing experiences
It is not only family reactions but official problems too that stand in front of those young people's path. “I was firstly in a vocational high school providing education in foreign languages, but I was forced to leave it as teachers and the director found out that I am a member of Dev-Lis,” said 17-year-old Baran Nayır. Being a revolutionary does not depend on age, according to Nayır. Whether fooled or not, and despite their young age, their reasons for organizing are directly related to the realities of life. It was inequalities or traumatic experiences that forced these young men and women to leave their quiet lives and focus on activism to make a difference.“We all want to be astronauts or computer engineers when we are children. We were saying what we wanted,” said Nayır, who is studying for the university entrance exam. “Now I know I will not become anything, as it is difficult both to win the right to go to university and to afford to complete it,” he said, when asked about his reason to organize.
It was personal and national tragedies that forced some to seek a part in political activism.Simin Gürdal, a student at Mimar Sinan University, is from Gölcük, a district of the western Kocaeli province, a part of the region that was devastated by 1999's Marmara Earthquake.“I was 14 when I came out of my collapsed home. Many people who I knew died there. Then I started to ask questions,” she said.Gürdal is a member of Genç-Sen, the youth trade union that is founded by the Confederation of Revolutionary Workers' Unions, or DİSK. TKP's Erdem Yalçın's reasons for becoming a party member depended more on what he saw all around him.“As you see children on streets with naked feet and as you see that it is connected to imperialism, you realize what a big organization we face on the other side,” he said. “If I am a human, and have honor, I should do something against this system and be organized,” he said. Volkan Karakoç, another university student in the international relations department and a TKP member, summarized the issue by saying, “Why do I struggle? People cannot change anything alone. Being organized means having power. And politics cannot be done without power.”BOXActivism in a unwelcoming environmentThe story of Adile Ayırtır is different from her fellow students at university. She is 25 and worked in a cosmetics factory for nine years before being dismissed for leading workers in the factory to be organized in a trade union. During this process she became a member of the Labor Party, or EMEP, as she met with some other party members.“We then realized that we could succeed in the factory if we come together,” she told the TDN. She was dismissed from work and with her friends in the factory started a strike.They stopped working and demanded Ayırtır's return, along with the improvement of work place conditions.Later on the employer accepted some of the demands from workers but on one condition: Ayırtır and other workers leading the strike would not return. Ayırtır's family first supported her in the struggle at the factory but later became worried about the possibility that she might lose her job. “Economic concerns are the first for families like mine,” she said. She was earning money and contributing to the family budget, but she said her family also became afraid because she started to learn different things.“My life was dominated by home and work. Nothing else. Then I started to learn more and tried to do something political,” she said. Her father also worried about Ayırtır because he witnessed the pre-1980 period.“Revolutionaries were coming to my father and other workers while they were working on the construction of a building. Oppression, fear, torture … They were afraid of so much at first. But now we learn together,” she said.
Along Istanbul's main thoroughfare, İstiklal Street, street vendors sell dried lavender, musicians play for change and a few lottery ticket salesmen offer the chance for instant fortune. Among the crowd, there are young women and men wearing green parkas, donning “leftist mustaches” and hawking Marxist publications – a clear signal of the political awareness of Turkish youth.After years of remaining dormant due to disillusionment and the suffering of past generations of youth activists, teenagers are slowly but decisively pushing themselves into Turkey's complex political arena.“When they ask me if I am going to save the country, I say yes. Yes, I am going to save the country,” said Erdem Yalçın, a university student at Istanbul Technical University, and a member of Turkish Communist Party, or TKP.A politicized and organized youth was a significant part of the Turkish left's journey during the 1970s. It was the Sept. 12, 1980, military coup, the third in 30 years, preceded by a decade of bloodshed between leftist and rightist groups that, for many, put a stop to anything resembling an organized political youth. The slow return to democracy over the next decade made it impossible for active political participation by the youth, who were alleged to be mainly apolitical throughout the 1980s and much of the ‘90s. The politically active teenagers and young men and women of today need to start from scratch, as the country's past experience with leftist politics seemingly only hindering their efforts.Families are usually afraid of any problems that their children potentially face, especially with state institutions like police. The past only ameliorates this fear, especially for those families who lived through the '60s and '70s with severe street clashes and the post-coup oppression of the left. A deep desperateness on the part of parents, teachers and friends accompanies these fears. Some remarks are the usual: “Is it your job to save the country? Turn your head back to your books, you have many exams,” while others reflect the disappointment and cynicism of bitter experiences, “Come on, we have tried in the past and cannot succeed.”“We always meet with those kinds of sentences,” said 16-year-old Pelin Şener, who is a member of a leftist organization at high school, Revolutionary High School Students, or Dev-Lis. “Especially the old leftists think that we are fooled. When I tell people what I try to do, they eventually say ‘you are right.' But they just say it. I do something,” she said. Şener's family does not know about their daughter's affiliation. “I tried to tell them. But as they are old leftists, they do not look warmly at the issue,” she said.
Life changing experiences
It is not only family reactions but official problems too that stand in front of those young people's path. “I was firstly in a vocational high school providing education in foreign languages, but I was forced to leave it as teachers and the director found out that I am a member of Dev-Lis,” said 17-year-old Baran Nayır. Being a revolutionary does not depend on age, according to Nayır. Whether fooled or not, and despite their young age, their reasons for organizing are directly related to the realities of life. It was inequalities or traumatic experiences that forced these young men and women to leave their quiet lives and focus on activism to make a difference.“We all want to be astronauts or computer engineers when we are children. We were saying what we wanted,” said Nayır, who is studying for the university entrance exam. “Now I know I will not become anything, as it is difficult both to win the right to go to university and to afford to complete it,” he said, when asked about his reason to organize.
It was personal and national tragedies that forced some to seek a part in political activism.Simin Gürdal, a student at Mimar Sinan University, is from Gölcük, a district of the western Kocaeli province, a part of the region that was devastated by 1999's Marmara Earthquake.“I was 14 when I came out of my collapsed home. Many people who I knew died there. Then I started to ask questions,” she said.Gürdal is a member of Genç-Sen, the youth trade union that is founded by the Confederation of Revolutionary Workers' Unions, or DİSK. TKP's Erdem Yalçın's reasons for becoming a party member depended more on what he saw all around him.“As you see children on streets with naked feet and as you see that it is connected to imperialism, you realize what a big organization we face on the other side,” he said. “If I am a human, and have honor, I should do something against this system and be organized,” he said. Volkan Karakoç, another university student in the international relations department and a TKP member, summarized the issue by saying, “Why do I struggle? People cannot change anything alone. Being organized means having power. And politics cannot be done without power.”BOXActivism in a unwelcoming environmentThe story of Adile Ayırtır is different from her fellow students at university. She is 25 and worked in a cosmetics factory for nine years before being dismissed for leading workers in the factory to be organized in a trade union. During this process she became a member of the Labor Party, or EMEP, as she met with some other party members.“We then realized that we could succeed in the factory if we come together,” she told the TDN. She was dismissed from work and with her friends in the factory started a strike.They stopped working and demanded Ayırtır's return, along with the improvement of work place conditions.Later on the employer accepted some of the demands from workers but on one condition: Ayırtır and other workers leading the strike would not return. Ayırtır's family first supported her in the struggle at the factory but later became worried about the possibility that she might lose her job. “Economic concerns are the first for families like mine,” she said. She was earning money and contributing to the family budget, but she said her family also became afraid because she started to learn different things.“My life was dominated by home and work. Nothing else. Then I started to learn more and tried to do something political,” she said. Her father also worried about Ayırtır because he witnessed the pre-1980 period.“Revolutionaries were coming to my father and other workers while they were working on the construction of a building. Oppression, fear, torture … They were afraid of so much at first. But now we learn together,” she said.
