PLAN CONTRA PLAGAS

The role of fictional or popular cultural products in the expansion of the public sphere was mentioned earlier in the previous chapter (see Curran, 2000). The first signs of a similar development began to show in the late 1980s when a growing interest, a yearning and nostalgia for the ‘multicultural past’ manifested itself in the public realm, not only in print media but in music, film and television. The foundation of the Kalan music company and Belge Publishing House in the 1990s was one of the most significant examples of this trend. In fact, Iğsız (2001: 156-157) views the way these two outlets archived music and memoirs of the multicultural past as attempts at ‘civic cultural policy’ production that brought together the different ‘colours’ of Anatolia in the public sphere.¹²⁵ This trend, which began with music and books, led to a boom in TV series that highlighted ethnic and social tensions or longed for the good old days of community life in the old neighbourhoods of Istanbul (Yanardağoğlu, 1999). Such examples might be considered as novel developments in the way cultural diversity was acknowledged and mediated. However, as mentioned above, there were contradictions in the new situation, which are elaborated in the following sections.

125 Kalan, which means (those) who/which remain, was established in 1991 by Hasan Saltık, who was half-Kurd and half-Zaza. It now holds a collection of 340 CDs and, with the help of

ethnomusicologists, it archives old, forgotten, classic Turkish music, Ottoman army marches, and Anatolian folk music. The albums it produced, which covered Armenian, Rum, Kurdish, Laz, Georgian, Gypsy, Syriac and Yezidi music, became a world-wide phenomenon and received international awards for their ‘contribution to multiculturalism’ (E.Kalkan, Hürriyet Pazar, 3^rd October 2004). The Belge Publishing House began publishing a series called ‘Mare Nostrum’, (referring to Romans’ definition of the Mediterranean) in 1991, and it produced more than 60 books and translated more than 300 from other languages. These books, as their introductory texts have highlighted, reminded its readers of the ‘multiculturalism’ of Anatolia and tried to persuade them that

‘it was possible to live together’ (Iğsız, 2001:164).

According to Bali (2002: 144), the ‘nostalgia’ over ‘good old’ Istanbul was accompanied with an emerging ‘urbanite consciousness’ among the intelligentsia as the demographics of Istanbul began to change through rural-urban migration. For Bali, ‘multiculturalism’ became one of the most popular subjects in the 1990s, especially since the urban elite, of which the journalists are a part, saw ‘themselves as minorities’ against the ‘ peasants’ who had ‘invaded’ Istanbul.

The rediscovery of a ‘multicultural’ past in the mainstream media was fuelled by two major, and interrelated, factors. Firstly, the rise of the Islamist movement in politics created ‘panic’ among the secular urban classes, especially after Erdoğan became the mayor of Istanbul in 1994 (Bali, 2002). Secondly, rural-urban migration, primarily from the Kurdish populated areas to the metropolitan cities, disturbed the urban lifestyle. These fears bolstered what Bora (1994) has called a new type of nationalism, or ‘Western’ nationalism, which emerged as a result of the neoliberal transformation that began after the 1980s coup. In this setting, as Bora argued, the urban capitalist classes and media professionals became the bearers of this type of nationalism as they saw the national interest in participating with globalisation and adopting a modern lifestyle¹²⁶.

Rıfat Bali addressed these secular and modern ‘lifestyle’ concerns in his book Tarz-ı Hayat’tan Lifestyle’a (from ‘style of life’, written in old Turkish (Tarz-ı Hayat), to

‘lifestyle’. His observations are also central for understanding the changes in the visibility of minority cultures in the public realm. As he explained in our interview:

As I mentioned in my book, Turkey has changed after 1980…and professionals, including those who worked in the press, began to earn good money, which was not the case before that. But they did not know their past.

After the Tarlabaşı Street in the Beyoğlu district was opened and with the emergence of a new consciousness in society, they began to wonder about

126 As Bali (2002:324-337) has explained, in the 1990s there emerged a debate about ‘White Turks’, or ‘Euro Turks’, and ‘Black Turks’ in the media. Black Turks was used in reference to whoever was repressed (regardless of religion and ethnicity) and who usually lived in the fringes of urban settings.

White Turk as a concept was used interchangeably with Euro Turk to denote members of the urban, educated, secular elite who adopted Western values.

the old residents of these neighborhood. It was in those days that culture walks, trips to synagogues and churches became a ‘racon’ [must follow attitude] and fashion. There were lots of articles and books written on this matter. For some people this was a 100% genuine interest, for others it was away of making money, other used it to have fame. Aside from that, there was a democratization process in Turkey. It was becoming more multi-vocal.

[There was] a rise in civic opposition as well as an interest in the academia to approach history outside the official definitions. All of these led to a boom of books and publications (Interview, 9^th June 2004).

The so-called Mare Nostrum series published by Belge books constitutes an example of the proliferation of such publications about the multicultural past. Ragıp Zarakolu is the owner of Belge Publishing House and also a columnist in pro-Kurdish daily Özgür Gündem. He considers the Mare Nostrum series as ‘part of the democratisation process’ in Turkey and believes that the ‘power of literature’ is stronger in exposing certain realities than that of academic and scientific works.

We have tried to publicise the literature of the groups that have been considered as non-existent in Turkish social history. We aimed for these communities to be better understood through a feeling of empathy that is communicated through literature. This was not only important for those communities who lived in Turkey but also for the neighbouring countries with whom we share a history. Because Turkey was cut off from its history and its region because of the official ideologies, we believe that it is important that Turkey makes peace with her history and with the societies that it lived together in the past. …When we started the series we have received very positive reactions and we created a new wave. We have been able to break down the barriers with the Greeks. When we published the Greek author Sotiriou’s book [Send my greetings to Anatolia] in 1988, she was received like a saint here in Turkey. But it is more difficult with the Armenians. Even though these two societies lived together for 1000 years there is a wall between them for 80 years that keep them apart. This is so sad.

We have difficulty in translating Greek and Armenian books, as we need to do it through another language such as French or English. But our previous society was multi-lingual. Our grandfathers were able understand each other in these different languages (Interview, 23^rd February 2005).

Zarakolu’s comments on the contribution of fictional media products to

‘democratisation’ endorse Curran’s (2000) argument that was previously put forward in relation to the transformation and expansion of the public sphere. Curran

argued that fictional media output such as soaps were also instrumental in bringing

‘sensitive’ issues into the domain of public debate.

The TV series which, from 2000, began to depict the stories of big Kurdish families and non-Muslim minorities for the first time can also be seen as a factor that enriched public debate. In fact, as the scenario writer of TV series Yabancı Damat (‘Foreign Groom’) Sulhi Dölek maintained, due to the low figures in books sales, television can act as much more powerful instrument in reaching people than literary works. For Dölek, the challenge of dealing with such sensitive themes for the first time was to establish a balance between representations of the two sides of any issues that came up within the story. According to Dölek, this challenge was successfully met and in the end managed to ‘touch a nerve’ in both Greece and Turkey, helping to create ‘tolerance’ and ‘winds of peace’ between the two peoples (Interview via e-mail, 6^th September 2005).¹²⁷

Despite the power of popular fictional media products in normalizing public debate and promoting an opening in the public sphere towards issues of cultural diversity, non-fictional media output, including investigative journalism pieces, were not always welcomed so straightforwardly.

For instance, as Zarakolu has explained, whilst the Mare Nostrum series did not face any particular pressures because they were literary works. Belge’s other research-based books, such as the ones that support the recognition of the existence of

‘Armenian genocide’, were subject to pressures and constraints when they were published.

In a similar vein, one of my respondents Yahya Koçoğlu published two books (Azınlık Gençleri Anlatıyor/Minority Youth Speaks and Hatırlıyorum/I Remember) within the so-called ‘Black-White’ series of Metis publications, which supports

127 The series, which for the first time depicted a love story between a Turkish girl from a very traditional family from South Eastern Turkey and a Greek boy from Athens whose parents were Istanbullite Rum, became a big hit in Turkey and Greece.

investigative reporting and independent journalism by publishing journalistic works on subjects absent from the mainstream media. The interviews, which informed the first book on minority youth, began as a reportage series for a national newspaper in 1999 but were never published, and Koçoğlu alleges that the data unexpectedly

‘disappeared’ from his computer at the offices of the newspaper (Interview, 4^th March 2005).

During the 1990s, as the interviews demonstrated, representations of cultural identities and diversity in popular culture faced a significantly different level of restrictions and limitations to investigative projects and journalistic endeavours.