Dead but still in the Dock - The Guardian, 13 April 2002 by Owen Bowcott
A publisher has been ordered to answer charges in court two months after her death, one of many Turkish cases with a whiff of Kafka. Owen Bowcott reports
Ayse Nur Zarakolu died of cancer in hospital on January 28 and was buried within two days. Two weeks after the death of this internationally renowned publisher, a letter arrived from No 1 state security court, ordering her to appear at 9am on March 21. "We have opened a case against you, in absentia," the summons warned. "If you do not come, you will be arrested." After her son was arrested for his funeral oration, the trial date arrived. The lawyers assumed their positions and proceedings began. "It was like something out of the pages of Kafka," says her widower, Ragip Zarakolu. "Everybody was there: the prosecutor, advocate, judges, correspondents, friends. Only the place of the accused was empty."
| "Born in Antakya in 1946, Zarakolu studied sociology before entering publishing. Her interest in ethnic minorities set her on a collision course with Turkey's generals. An investigation into whether the 1915 Ottoman massacre of Armenians was a planned genocide earned her a suspended prison sentence" |
| Owen Boycott |
Zarakolu's alleged crime involved publication of a work entitled The Song Of Liberty by Huseyin Turhali, an exiled Kurdish lawyer. She is also being summonsed from her grave to answer charges that she published The Culture Of Pontus, an anthropological study by Omer Assan examining the ancient Greek heritage of the region around Trabzon on the Black Sea.
The cases are active. Her death has not, so far, convinced the prosecuting authorities to relinquish their grip: the Pontus book remains banned and under investigation. The court awaits a death certificate from the registrar confirming that she is now an ex-publisher and the trial is postponed until June 4.
The prosecution - some might say persecution - of Zarakolu illustrates the republic's enthusiasm for gagging charges and an enduring sense of national vulnerability when confronted with public debate about Turkey's historical identity.
Zarakolu's case is one of those highlighted this month in a campaign launched by the English branch of the writers' association, International PEN, which has become "alarmed" at the numbers of authors, journalists and publishers appearing before the courts. More than 100 await trial.
The elected government in Ankara, eager for EU membership, had attempted to reduce the number of such "causes célèbres" by reforming its criminal statutes. But politicians and prosecutors, under the vigilant eye of the military-dominated national security council, remain sensitive to perceived threats against the state's territorial integrity.
"Though it welcomes the initiative to improve legislation in line with EU accession requirements, International PEN is deeply disappointed by the limited changes to laws used to penalise freedom of expression in Turkey," the organisation says. "In some cases penalties have been increased, and the scope of repressive
legislation widened."
Among cases due before the courts this month is the prosecution of author Selma Kociva and her publisher, Muammer Akyuz, under article 312 of the Turkish penal code. Her book, Lazona: The Reality Of The Laz People, is a study of a Turkish ethnic minority. Article 312, open to a broad spectrum of interpretations, states that: "A person who incites the people to hatred or hostility on the basis of a distinction between social classes, races, religions, denominations or regions shall, on conviction, be liable to between one and three years' imprisonment".
Turkey's punitive anti-terror legislation, developed during 15 years of warfare against Kurdish separatist guerrillas, is also repeatedly deployed to define Kurdish cultural activity as support for terrorism. "Written and spoken propaganda, meetings, assemblies and demonstrations aimed at undermining the territorial integrity of the Republic of Turkey or the indivisible unity of the nation are
prohibited," states article eight of the anti-terror law.
Another publisher, Abdullah Keskin, this month faced charges for his firm's translation of After Such Knowledge, What Forgiveness?, a book by Washington Post journalist Jonathan Randal. Published in the US and Britain several years ago, it is an eyewitness account of the establishment of the western-protected safe haven in Northern Iraq. The Turkish authorities have taken exception to use of the word "Kurdistan" in several passages.
Occasionally international opinion dissuades Turkish courts from banning foreign books. Earlier this year, the US political critic Noam Chomsky appeared in an Istanbul court to lend support to Fathi Tas, the 23-year-old publisher of the Turkish edition of his selected works.
The prosecutor eventually conceded that "the author was presenting his personal views and scientific assessment" and "there was no evidence the defendant acted with the purpose of dividing the state". Fiona Mackay, of the London-based Kurdish Human Rights Project, attended the hearing and was surprised at its sudden informality under the glare of western media. "A few minutes later, word came round that the defendant had been acquitted, though no judgment was given in open court."
The dead cannot respond to courtroom interrogation, but Zarakolu, who was jailed four times for publishing, left behind prison-cell statements. "I am here today," she wrote in 1993, "since thought has been deemed a crime, indeed a terrorist crime."
Born in Antakya in 1946, Zarakolu studied sociology before entering publishing. Her interest in ethnic minorities set her on a collision course with Turkey's generals. An investigation into whether the 1915 Ottoman massacre of Armenians was a planned genocide earned her a suspended prison sentence.
The Belge publishing house, which she established in an Istanbul basement, was firebombed in 1995. Numerous titles were confiscated and destroyed. At one stage she faced more than 30 charges, attracting international support including a "Freedom to Publish" award at the 1998 Frankfurt book fair. Zarakolu was unable to collect it as authorities withheld her passport. Earlier this year, a distinguished cast of writers from English PEN - including Margaret Drabble, Lady Antonia Fraser, Sir Tom Stoppard and David Lodge - faxed a petition to Bulent Ecevit, Turkey's president, calling for the charges against her and Omer Asan to be dropped.
In Turkey's defence, there have been improvements in freedom of expression since the military coup of the early 1980s when dozens of writers were jailed. Many of those charged now are spared prison sentences. PEN believes that only one writer, Fikret Baskaya, is being held in prison specifically for his writing. "Yet the aim is to suppress those who criticise while avoiding the scrutiny of the outside world," the organisation says.
The fate of a bus driver who played Kurdish music to his passengers has triggered an even more curious test case. The trial of Sulhattin Onen shows just how widely article eight of the anti- terror law can be stretched. He was given a 45-month prison sentence for playing music which the authorities claim contains "separatist propaganda". He says the tape, entitled The Words Of Heaven, bore an official seal and came from a local music shop.
His misfortune was to have an army sergeant as his last passenger. The NCO asked to be dropped off at the local security directorate where he arrested Onen, claiming that he had forced passengers to listen to the music more than 20 times. The court found him guilty of "aiding and abetting an armed organisation" but later suspended the sentence.