Shame At Istanbul Pride
[John Doe is an old friend of ours and a gay American expat currently living and working in Istanbul, Turkey. The following article recounts his experience at Istanbul Pride 2015. He is using a pseudonym because he fears deportation by the ultra-conservative Erdoğan government, which outlaws critiques against President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan.]
ISTANBUL, Turkey Taksim Square
28 June 2015
5:13 pm
We stepped off the Metro and onto the platform like a catwalk. Decked out in our Pride finest with rainbows already sweat-smeared on our faces, we marched up the labyrinthian network of stairs and escalators to the sunlight above. But as we trodded up the final set of stairs, the sun disappeared.
A tear gas canister was launched into the Metro station.
Screaming. Running.
It was at that moment that I channeled the Prophet Tupac. “I don’t give a f*ck,” I said. My Turkish boyfriend and our motley crew of Turkish and expat queers and allies and I ran up the stairs to the square. Thousands of people were just standing around waiting for the police to attack. There were TOMAs (water cannon vehicles) everywhere. The entrance to Istiklal Caddesi, Istanbul’s busiest street in the heart of the busiest district, Taksim, was blocked by men in black with bulletproof vests, gas masks, AKs, and shields. Who the f*ck comes to a parade like that? And WE’RE the queers?
We passed the central statue of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, the founder of the Turkish republic who instituted the first purely secular state in the Muslim world. He looked like he was weeping at the sight of this state-sanctioned police violence and for his home which was falling slowly but surely under hyper-conservative Islamic rule, but he was probably just sprayed with a water cannon. As we proceeded to Istiklal, two plain- clothes thugs ran toward me screaming and shoving me back forcefully. Trina, my other guardian angel, shoved Tupac off my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Hit that b*tch with a bottle.” I got in their face, but my boyfriend yanked me back.
We retreated to a line of dozens of buses used to transport the police to the square. We hid between them and watched the chaos. There were still Pride flags flying everywhere and every 20 minutes or so, a small group attempted to resume the parade to no avail. The heavy police presence drove the revelers to different parts of the city. We stayed in Taksim until we were finally able to pass the police blockade. We had to wipe the Pride flags off our cheeks, but we finally made it through. The street was oddly silent. Most of the revelers looked confused, scared. Some looked defiant. The shop owners were standing at their doors, some to welcome us in to seek shelter from the gas, some to turn us away. We continued walking until we reached a TOMA dispersing a large crowd. We sought shelter on a side street and watched. “Don’t run,” my boyfriend told me. “They’ll chase you if you run.” I’d experienced this once before, though I’ve only been living in Istanbul for six months. On May Day, International Workers’ Day, the police invaded my quiet neighborhood in Osmanbey. Walking to my friend’s apartment for beers became a lot more complicated that day.
We eventually found ourselves in Şişhane in the midst of a large street party. Finally. The cops had left. Pride could begin.
It felt real. Back home in the states, Pride is always a reason for celebration. But in Istanbul, it’s different. Whereas in America, I wouldn’t even hesitate to hold my boyfriend’s hand, in Istanbul, I’d seriously fear for our safety. Istanbul is the largest city in Europe and the fifth largest city in the world. The LGBT population is massive, but mostly invisible. These people, these queers, these Turks and Kurds and Syrians and Persians and Libyans and Algerians, finally felt free in Şişhane Meydani in one of the most progressive cities in the Muslim world. The pride was palpable. After my boyfriend and I left, the revelers were attacked with water cannons, tear gas, and rubber bullets. A young Turkish gay man lost his eye.
The Governor of Istanbul canceled Pride hours before it was scheduled to begin, no doubt directed by President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, citing religious reasons. It coincided with the Muslim holy month of Ramazan. Except last year, Istanbul Pride’s 12th year, it also coincided with the holy month of Ramazan, and the police were there merely to protect and serve. This terrorism was politically motivated, revenge for Erdoğan having his ass handed to him in the recent elections by the HDP, a minority party supporting Kurdish and LGBT rights.
The fight is not over. Western Europe and North America have made great strides in LGBT rights, but our brothers and sisters around the world need us. I have the luxury and privilege of being an American citizen. I can and will leave this country. But others are not so lucky. This is a call to action. In Istanbul, cops are shooting rubber bullets at us. But in Syria, ISIS is throwing us off buildings to our death. In Uganda, we are put to death with no remorse. Please do not let the fight end with marriage. Let it begin anew.
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