The hitherto “untouched” Boğaziçi University, 2012. Wikicommons/ Turkmessage. Some rights reserved.It was a “call for
papers” like all others. “On behalf of the Turkish Political Economy Society
(TPES)”, said the organizers of the 5th TPES Interdisciplinary
Workshop on Turkey and Latin America in Comparative Perspective, “we would be
happy if you would consider submitting an abstract and help us spread the word
by forwarding the CfP to other scholars who may be interested.”
Many probably did,
among them Yasemin Yılmaz and Orçun Selçuk,
two PhD candidates from The City University of New York and Florida
International University respectively, who saw this as an opportunity to share their
work with and get feedback from their peers and senior academics in Turkey and
beyond.[1]
Both received a positive reply from the organizing committee on 27 April
2017 and were invited to present their papers at the two-day workshop that was
going to take place on 20-21 July at Koç University, Istanbul under the
auspices of the Center for Research on Globalization, Peace, and Democratic
Governance (GLODEM). “We are unable to offer any funding for travel and accommodation”,
the generic invitation letter stated, but neither Yasemin nor Orçun cared as they were happy to be part of a
scholarly event in one of Turkey’s most prestigious universities, in front of
an audience that included scholars from other, equally prestigious,
universities such as Sabancı, Bilkent and Özyeğin, to name but a few.
The tentative
programme of the workshop they were sent about a month later had their
names on as presenters and asked them to submit their full papers on ‘Self-Coups and
Presidential Power Grabs in Peru and Turkey’(Selçuk) and ‘Elite Interests and
Media Suppression: The Cases of Turkey and Venezuela’ (Yılmaz) by 6 July.
Alas, they never got the chance to submit their full papers as, nine days
before the July 6 deadline, they received yet another unsolicited, this time quite
disturbing email from the organisers. The text of the email, an affront to
everything that academe stands for, is worth quoting in full:
Dear Yasemin (Orçun)
We hope this email finds you well. We are writing to you regarding the
Turkey-Latin America workshop and we’re afraid it’s bad news.
Last week, we, as the organizers of the workshop, were urged by the TPES Steering Committee not to include papers on politically very sensitive topics,
given the potential consequences for everybody involved in the currently
extreme conditions for academic work in Turkey. Unfortunately, your paper was identified as one such
sensitive topic. Therefore, with the greatest regret and reluctance, we are
extremely sorry to inform you that we have to remove your paper from the
workshop. We are aware that you must have already made your travel arrangements
and that presenting at the workshop might have allowed you to receive
university reimbursement for your trip. We apologize for the great
inconvenience this short-notice change causes for you.
Right now, we can’t do much more than to ask for your understanding. If you
would like to discuss this in more detail we can talk over skype or in person
when you’re in Istanbul. Also, you would
certainly be welcome to join us for the workshop informally, if you would
still be interested in that. For the TPES
Steering Committee it was just important that your paper does not appear on the
official program or during the workshop.
We look forward to hearing from you on this matter. Please let us know if you
have any questions.
Appeasement or complicity?
“We look
forward to hearing from you on this matter.” Nothing less, nothing more! How
could the organizers, themselves well-known academics, (be willing to) write such
an outrageous email? Who urged them to remove the said papers and to “disinvite” Yasemin and Orçun? We would find out, after
the scandal became public, that most members of the TPES Steering Committee
were not even aware of the decision, let alone the email (see below).
Who decided that their papers were “politically very sensitive” and
according to which criteria? Does “politically very sensitive” mean critical of
the regime – a full-blown autocracy with Erdoğan at its helm? How could anyone
with a modicum of collegiality, professionalism, in fact sense of decency, encourage
two young scholars at the beginning of their careers to attend a workshop they
have been disinvited from “informally”, adding insult to injury?
We do not know the answers to these questions. The statement released by
TPES Steering Committee on June 30, under pressure from those appalled by the decision,
pointed to “a lack of communication among the TPES Steering Committee and the
Organizing Committee”, claiming that “the removal decision and its
implementation took place through an intervention without the knowledge of all
committee members, without following due processes of consensual decision
making”. It also apologized for “the distress” they had caused the colleagues
whose papers were removed and announced
that the workshop has been cancelled. No mention of reimbursement for the costs
incurred by the participants – which would have certainly alleviated “the
distress” caused; no assumption of responsibility; no reference to
accountability. Rather, a certain urge to protect the culprit(s), a warped
solidarity they have spared their younger colleagues. (“An intervention”? What
kind of intervention? Whose intervention?)[2]
This incident is but the most recent, and perhaps also the most dramatic,
example of the growing sense of fear and insecurity that has engulfed Turkish
academia in the wake of the failed 15 July putsch. The details of the post-coup
crackdown on institutions of higher education have been well-documented.[3]
To quickly recap, more than 5000 academics have been sacked with a string of executive decrees, including hundreds of Peace
Declaration signatories, approximately 20 times more than the number of
academics who lost their jobs in all the military coups combined according to
some estimates.
A lifetime ban from employment as civil
servants has been imposed on most of the dismissed academic personnel; and their
passports have been confiscated or cancelled. In the meantime, two scholars,
Mehmet Fatih Traş and Mustafa Sadık Akdağ, have committed suicide;[4]
two others, Nuriye Gülmen and Semih Özakça
have completed 130 days of the hunger strike they have commenced in an
attempt to get their jobs back. Countless others who are lucky enough to keep
their passports are desperately looking for a grant or job abroad, as reports
released by such institutions as Scholars at Risk (SAR), Scholar Rescue Fund,
Cara Scholars at Risk Network document.
Turkish riot police detained demonstrators who gather at Besiktas to support detained teachers Semih Ozakca and Nuriye Gulmen, in Istanbul, Turkey, on May 23, 2017. Depo Photos/Press Association. All rights reserved.Under such circumstances,
fear is warranted, and a certain amount of caution is not only necessary but
also advisable, in particular for those who have families or loved ones to care
and provide for. It is not fair to ask those who do not have the means or the
will to leave the country to be “heroes”, given the indifference of the
not-so-silent millions who have expressed their approval of Erdoğan’s ambitions in
the 16 April constitutional referendum or western leaders who, while on occasion expressing their concerns, do
not hesitate to happily shake hands with Turkey’s strongman when a photo op
presents itself.
But can fear explain the
loathing that the victims of this ‘academic cleansing’ are exposed to, often by
their own colleagues who are trying to cozy up to the regime in order to share
its spoils? Could insecurity justify the complicity of hoards of administrators
– among them rectors, deans, directors of centers and think tanks – who provide
lists of “traitors” to be wiped out; or of the power-hungry lower-ranking
“academic” who snitches on his/her colleagues to get a promotion? Last but
certainly not least, will we satisfy an authoritarian regime bent on
eliminating all signs of dissent, within academia or anywhere else, by pursuing
a policy of “appeasement”?
The case for targeted academic boycott
The answer to the last
question raised above is “yes” for some – certainly, it seems, for the
organizers of the 5th
TPES Interdisciplinary Workshop and/or those who “urged them” to remove the allegedly
politically sensitive papers. There are, however, those who disagree and call
for a “targeted
academic boycott” of the Turkish higher education system. They define
themselves as a group of academics united in their commitment to academic
freedom and international standards stated in various international documents
on higher education, including some signatories of the Peace Declaration.
As is the case
with, say, the BDS
movement, not everybody is a friend of this call, or boycotting in general.
It is argued for instance that the call should come from “inside”, i.e. those
affected; that a boycott would cause more harm than good to those who chose or
had to remain, hence for whom interaction with the outside world is vital (that
a boycott of the Turkish Higher Education Council would amount to an end to all
EU and Erasmus projects); and that the boycott would risk destroying existing
niches rather than building up alternative ones. And so on.
Even though I am broadly
sympathetic to the logic (and the feeling) behind this thinking, I do not think
the counter-arguments hold much water, at least not in the case of this
particular call.[5]
For one thing, the
lines that separate the “inside” from the “outside” are hardly clear. Most of
those who have issued the call are recent, involuntary, victims of the purges
themselves and do not particularly enjoy being in exile. In any case, it is not
realistic to expect such bold actions from those “inside”, as the consequences would
far outweigh any benefits that could be derived from these actions. Finally,
those “inside” themselves turn to their colleagues “outside” for solidarity
since the latter can help them in a variety of ways, by raising awareness, by mobilizing
international public opinion, or simply by acting as a “ventriloque” for those whose
voices are muffled.
On the other hand,
this call for academic boycott is “selective”, targeting the Higher Education
Council (YÖK) and the Scientific and Technological Council of Turkey (TÜBİTAK) which have been the
perpetrators of the regime’s oppressive policies and “complicit universities” which have not only dutifully
implemented the orders given by the government, but also encouraged the
remaining staff to act as “informants”.
The targeted
boycott call explicitly excludes “(a) arrangements/agreements designed to
help/facilitate student exchange and (b) requests from individual academics in
Turkey for visiting fellowships or similar engagements with universities
outside Turkey”. As for existing niches, again, the boycott does not target
institutions of higher education who nurture such niches; in any case, as the
Koç-TPES
controversy clearly shows, the number of such niches is shrinking by the day
(the government has rounded up 72 more academics even as
this essay was being written, among them academics from the hitherto “untouched”
Boğaziçi
University).[6]
The ghost of Neville Chamberlain
I believe it is high time not only to boycott government-controlled
institutions of higher education and complicit universities, but also to extend
the boycott to those who are tempted by Neville Chamberlain’s dreams and pursue
a policy of appeasement vis-à-vis Turkey’s rogue government, i.e. private
universities such as Koç and associated centers
such as GLODEM and TPES – among others – which masquerade as respectable
institutions of higher education dedicated to “critical thinking, collaborative
research and networking” while taking a pro-regime stance on “politically very
sensitive” matters.[7]
Those who took the decision to “disinvite” Yasemin Yılmaz and Orçun Selçuk and send them the above-quoted dreadful email may
continue to believe, as Chamberlain did, that “they are bringing peace with
honour”, then “go home and get a nice quiet sleep”.[8]
But as the “great appeaser”, in R. A. C. Parker’s words, himself realized when
the Second World War started in September 1939, they may find out that
everything they have worked for, everything they have hoped for has crashed
into ruins.[9]
And they will be, in fact we will all be, remembered by the choices we have
made in these straitened times.
Morality
does not stop at the frontier’s edge. These principles are universal . . . It
may, as a pragmatic matter, be that you can influence your own side more. But I
also know from working in the Middle East for decades now that if you’re in
jail in Saudi Arabia or Iran, and you feel you’re forgotten, it means a lot to
know that there are people in the West who are publicizing your case, who are
protesting or sending letters, which never get answered . . . It makes a
difference.
Fred
Halliday [10]
[1] I would like to thank Yasemin
Yılmaz and
Orçun Selçuk for sharing their
story with me. The responsibility for the views expressed herein lies solely
with me.
[2] I have contacted all members of TPES Steering Committee and GLODEM – most
of whom I know personally – on 28 June 2017 via email and asked for some
clarification. Out of thirteen people, only two have replied and they have both
refused to make further comments.
[3] See for example the special
issue of Globalizations I have
edited (open access), in particular Özkırımlı 2017 and Kandiyoti
and Emanet 2017. See also Baser et al. 2017 and Abbas
and Zalta 2017.
[4] See Özkırımlı 2017 for the story of Mehmet Fatih Traş.
[5] For the purposes of full disclosure, I would like to state that I am not
part of the group which organized the boycott and have become aware of it after
it has been announced publicly, like everyone else. I am, however, one of the
signatories of the petition that supports it.
[6] https://www.reuters.com/article/us-turkey-security-detentions-idUSKBN19V0RT
[7] http://tpes.sabanciuniv.edu/who-are-we
[8] https://www.theguardian.com/world/2009/sep/05/chamberlain-munich-appeasement-second-world-war.
[9] R. A. C. Parker, Chamberlain and
Appeasement: British Foreign Policy and the Coming of the Second World War.
Palgrave Macmillan: London and New York, 1993, p. 1.
[10] https://www.opendemocracy.net/danny-postel/who-is-responsible-interview-with-fred-halliday.
