By A. G.
Social media has for a long time been argued to be a space of freedom, communication, and exchange. Yet, in contexts of authoritarian states and conflicts, they tend to become a place of regulation – transforming this virtual world into a conservative place.
In the province of Mardin (Southeast Turkey), tension is a central part of the people’s everyday lives. Being close to the Syrian border and having a large population of Kurds, this space is geographically conflictual. Being aware of this, people follow the state’s regulations and see themselves under constant surveillance.
Although Facebook takes a central part in the people’s lives, political debates in Mardin only happen at home with close friends and family. The main objective is to avoid any kind of political or ethnic conflict that could result in bigger scale consequences. On Facebook, people prioritise good relationships and peaceful coexistence within the platform. Social media seems then to build a space for agreement, to share similar ideas and visions.
Because most of the political opinions in this region of Turkey would seem to be ‘problematic’ for the government, they have no visibility – letting then more visual space for the government’s supporters.
During the local elections of March 2014, Mardin people started joining public gatherings showing their support for some political parties. Yet, even in this moment of political tension, posts on social media were avoided.
This was grounded in past censorships and state regulations.
Almost a year before the local elections in Mardin, the Gezi Park protest in Istanbul saw a memorable wave of against this censorship.
People protesting at this central park of Istanbul denounced a concern that centres on the lack of freedom, expression, and opinion.
The protest moved from Gezi Park to Taksim square where the Ataturk cultural centre (symbolic place for the opposition) was all covered in the protesters’ banners.
As a response to this, AKP (government’s party) supporters posted memes and videos making fun of the protesters. Some questionable stories were also circulating to discredit the movement such as ‘the disproved story about a headscarved woman being attacked by protesters’. (see more in http://www.dailystar.com.lb/News/Middle-East/2014/Feb-14/247358-video-casts-doubt-over-alleged-attack-on-headscarved-woman.ashx)
The virtual response to this real opposition and the censorship of some protesters’ posts also led to the government’s radical response of recruiting a few months later 6000 social media users to influence public opinion.
Censorship in the Mardin region is very common and many Mardin-Kurdish people have been blocked or censured on Facebook when they show significant support to the Kurdish population. The ‘Kurdish peace and Democracy Party’ is one of the main Kurdish parties in Turkey. Its main discourse opposed the government and Erdogan’s policy made it very polemic in the last few years which led to the state’s oppression – incarcerating the official leaders of the party and closing their Facebook page.
As a result, the Kurdish population in Mardin only achieve visibility on Facebook when they show their support to the Kurd population in Syria and Iraq. Even though the Turkish state has been supporting the Islamic movement in these two countries, Mardin-Kurds never mention anything about the state’s fault, maintaining their support restricted to a cultural and ethnic solidarity.
This particular way to be interconnected within the Kurdish community without never targeting the Turkish state reveals how politics are engaged in this part of the world where silence and discretion are key elements in contexts of opposition and minorities’ solidarity.
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