“The stronger you are in the realms of culture and art, the more you can direct and manage your surroundings. It’s a fact that the most powerful weapons of those who rule the global system are the tools of culture,” asserted Turkish President Recep Tayyiip Erdogan at an arts awards ceremony, in December.
Apparently Erdogan, who was distributing the Presidential Culture and Arts Grand Awards for 2021, was not directing his comments at the artists and writers who filled the hall in Ankara, but mainly at himself. There’s nothing new about Erdogan’s control over media outlets in his country; indeed, the newest annual report by Human Rights Watch, published this month, also refers to it. The report includes details about many cases of persecution, detention and arrest of journalists who have criticized the administration and Erdogan and his family, and notes the fact that 58 journalists and individuals employed in the communications industry are under detention or serving prison sentences for their “terrorist” activity or “support for terror.”
What is less well known is the regime’s attacks against artists, musicians and even belly dancers. This week new directives were published, forbidding parties and live musical performances after midnight. The order divides the country into three categories: very sensitive areas, sensitive areas and non-sensitive areas.
The first category, very sensitive areas, includes hospitals, schools, residential areas and student housing, where live musical performances are forbidden except in indoor venues; sensitive areas are hotels, schools and religious sites, around which open performances, events and festivals are forbidden after midnight; and non-sensitive areas include government offices, sports arenas and industrial areas, where live musical performances are permitted after midnight, but mass cultural events are banned.
These prohibitions were explained by the need to guard against infection by COVID-19, and alternatively, by the need to maintain a quiet environment in sensitive and populated areas. But young musicians, singers and other performers claim that these directives are part of a campaign to suppress modern music, rock, pop, rap and the other genres “that drive the conservatives crazy.”
Last year the Turkish Ministry of Family and Social Services decided to examine the phenomenon of K-Pop, the popular genre created in South Korea that has conquered the world with its catchy beat and unique mixture of rap and pop. Millions of young Turks have been captivated by this music, to the chagrin of the arbiters of morality in the government and conservative media outlets. A report about three young Turkish people who allegedly wanted to run away to South Korea opened the gates of hell against this music, because it “encourages free sex, homosexuality and creates gender identity confusion among young people,” according to an article headlined “Here come the armies of homosexuals,” posted on the Turkish Islamic website Yeni Akit.
In 2019 two locally created rap clips were posted on social media that immediately went viral and received millions of views. Both include what the regime calls “subversive content that is meant to upset social order and the stability of the government.” One of them, “Susamam” (“I Can’t Stay Silent), is a joint effort by some 20 rappers, each of whom wrote and performed a section about a different painful issue: police brutality, domestic violence, environmental quality, poverty and social disparities. Blended together, these separate contributions create an exciting work that was shared 3 million times during its first days.
One of the parts of “Susamam” makes it very clear why the song upset the regime as if it had been struck by a poison arrow. Its lyrics are: “My laws are Anglo-Saxon but my head is Middle Eastern. I grew up apolitical, I’ve never voted in elections, I was concerned only about my vacations, my trips and my obligations. Justice is dead. I stayed silent and participated (in the general atmosphere) until it harmed me. Today I’m afraid to send a tweet on Twitter, I’ve started to fear my country’s police. I’m sorry to tell you, but this generation without hope is your own creation.”
The lyrics are increasingly biting, harsh and frustrated, and even now, almost two years after they were composed, they are still popular and quoted on Twitter and in Facebook posts. Not only has this and other songs been censored by government media outlets, but over 200 similar musical works were censored by the Radio and Television Corporation TRT, due to content that is “unsuitable,” whether for cultural or political reasons.
This wild young Turkish generation infuriates and threatens the government. In its honor Erdogan has also struck out against the social media and websites, and with new and strict laws obligating them to remove certain content as demanded by the Justice Ministry and the communications authorities. Violators can expect heavy fines and further clampdowns on their activities.
Nor is Turkish cinema exempt from the wrath of the moral censor. Two years ago the Radio and Television Corporation, which has broad powers to censor cinematic content as well, demanded the removal of a secondary character, who was gay, in the movie “If Only,” which Netflix had planned to begin filming in Turkey. “We won’t permit the screening of films that undermine our society’s values,” explained the head of the Radio and Television Supreme Council, Ebubekir Sahin. After brief negotiations Netflix announced cancellation of its plan to produce the film. Currently, producers of new films must receive the approval of the broadcasting authority, which is permitted to reject scenes even after they have been filmed with its approval. In addition there is self-censorship that is not dictated by law or by the regime, such as the censorship imposed by Turkish Airlines on films screened on its flights.
As far as Erdogan is concerned, tough regulations and censorship laws are essential in a “defensive culture” that is threatened by invasion from the West. In his hands, culture is a weapon and a defensive wall against “unworthy” values, social deviation and other blights that are likely to defile Turkish society.
Man, the guy has no jack.
You can rage against K Pop and Netflix, but let’s leave the belly dancers out of this, you weirdo.
5 comments
“The stronger you are in the realms of culture and art, the more you can direct and manage your surroundings. It’s a fact that the most powerful weapons of those who rule the global system are the tools of culture,” asserted Turkish President Recep Tayyiip Erdogan at an arts awards ceremony, in December.
Apparently Erdogan, who was distributing the Presidential Culture and Arts Grand Awards for 2021, was not directing his comments at the artists and writers who filled the hall in Ankara, but mainly at himself. There’s nothing new about Erdogan’s control over media outlets in his country; indeed, the newest annual report by Human Rights Watch, published this month, also refers to it. The report includes details about many cases of persecution, detention and arrest of journalists who have criticized the administration and Erdogan and his family, and notes the fact that 58 journalists and individuals employed in the communications industry are under detention or serving prison sentences for their “terrorist” activity or “support for terror.”
What is less well known is the regime’s attacks against artists, musicians and even belly dancers. This week new directives were published, forbidding parties and live musical performances after midnight. The order divides the country into three categories: very sensitive areas, sensitive areas and non-sensitive areas.
The first category, very sensitive areas, includes hospitals, schools, residential areas and student housing, where live musical performances are forbidden except in indoor venues; sensitive areas are hotels, schools and religious sites, around which open performances, events and festivals are forbidden after midnight; and non-sensitive areas include government offices, sports arenas and industrial areas, where live musical performances are permitted after midnight, but mass cultural events are banned.
These prohibitions were explained by the need to guard against infection by COVID-19, and alternatively, by the need to maintain a quiet environment in sensitive and populated areas. But young musicians, singers and other performers claim that these directives are part of a campaign to suppress modern music, rock, pop, rap and the other genres “that drive the conservatives crazy.”
Last year the Turkish Ministry of Family and Social Services decided to examine the phenomenon of K-Pop, the popular genre created in South Korea that has conquered the world with its catchy beat and unique mixture of rap and pop. Millions of young Turks have been captivated by this music, to the chagrin of the arbiters of morality in the government and conservative media outlets. A report about three young Turkish people who allegedly wanted to run away to South Korea opened the gates of hell against this music, because it “encourages free sex, homosexuality and creates gender identity confusion among young people,” according to an article headlined “Here come the armies of homosexuals,” posted on the Turkish Islamic website Yeni Akit.
In 2019 two locally created rap clips were posted on social media that immediately went viral and received millions of views. Both include what the regime calls “subversive content that is meant to upset social order and the stability of the government.” One of them, “Susamam” (“I Can’t Stay Silent), is a joint effort by some 20 rappers, each of whom wrote and performed a section about a different painful issue: police brutality, domestic violence, environmental quality, poverty and social disparities. Blended together, these separate contributions create an exciting work that was shared 3 million times during its first days.
One of the parts of “Susamam” makes it very clear why the song upset the regime as if it had been struck by a poison arrow. Its lyrics are: “My laws are Anglo-Saxon but my head is Middle Eastern. I grew up apolitical, I’ve never voted in elections, I was concerned only about my vacations, my trips and my obligations. Justice is dead. I stayed silent and participated (in the general atmosphere) until it harmed me. Today I’m afraid to send a tweet on Twitter, I’ve started to fear my country’s police. I’m sorry to tell you, but this generation without hope is your own creation.”
The lyrics are increasingly biting, harsh and frustrated, and even now, almost two years after they were composed, they are still popular and quoted on Twitter and in Facebook posts. Not only has this and other songs been censored by government media outlets, but over 200 similar musical works were censored by the Radio and Television Corporation TRT, due to content that is “unsuitable,” whether for cultural or political reasons.
This wild young Turkish generation infuriates and threatens the government. In its honor Erdogan has also struck out against the social media and websites, and with new and strict laws obligating them to remove certain content as demanded by the Justice Ministry and the communications authorities. Violators can expect heavy fines and further clampdowns on their activities.
Nor is Turkish cinema exempt from the wrath of the moral censor. Two years ago the Radio and Television Corporation, which has broad powers to censor cinematic content as well, demanded the removal of a secondary character, who was gay, in the movie “If Only,” which Netflix had planned to begin filming in Turkey. “We won’t permit the screening of films that undermine our society’s values,” explained the head of the Radio and Television Supreme Council, Ebubekir Sahin. After brief negotiations Netflix announced cancellation of its plan to produce the film. Currently, producers of new films must receive the approval of the broadcasting authority, which is permitted to reject scenes even after they have been filmed with its approval. In addition there is self-censorship that is not dictated by law or by the regime, such as the censorship imposed by Turkish Airlines on films screened on its flights.
As far as Erdogan is concerned, tough regulations and censorship laws are essential in a “defensive culture” that is threatened by invasion from the West. In his hands, culture is a weapon and a defensive wall against “unworthy” values, social deviation and other blights that are likely to defile Turkish society.
Man, the guy has no jack.
You can rage against K Pop and Netflix, but let’s leave the belly dancers out of this, you weirdo.
Give belly dancers asylum. Now!
This poor man and his shameful boners.