The story of Ali Gül: an interview

Ali Gul

Ali Gül, a 22 year old law degree graduate was arrested a week after writing, filming and releasing an explainer video with the help of his friends for the “No” campaign in Turkey’s critical and contested constitutional referendum held on the 16th of April 2017.

Gül’s aim was to enable free access to information in the face of the “No” campaign being marred by threats and prosecutions. He was among 120 members of the "No" campaign to be jailed from the No side in the lead up to the referendum. The 51.3 percent win for President Erdogan’s “Yes” campaign granted wide-reaching centralised new powers to the president including the right to rule by decree, appoint top judges at his discretion, and removes parliament's authority to assess ministers (whose power to initiate a motion of no confidence was removed) and budget bills, as well as making it harder to impeach the president for criminal behaviour. In providing a platform to Mr. Gül's interview, published initially in Turkish by Evrensel Daily, PEN International also notes that the campaign took place under a state of emergency, in place since the failed coup of 15 July 2016, which imposes heavy restrictions on freedom of expression.

The road from Qur’an courses to Silivri prison and onto becoming a lawyer

The interview below conducted with Mr. Gül was originally published by Evrensel Daily. In Gül’s words, he sacrificed ‘the spring time’ of his life to the state. He was a law student when he was arrested and was separated from school in the lead up to his final exams. Regardless he managed to graduate successfully. Here is some of his story.

What was your childhood like?

I attended primary school in Beylikdüzü Kavaklı neighborhood, which used to be a village. Quality of education was poor; the school fell under state standards. I was a successful student and was very hard working. Later I managed to be accepted to the Anadolu high school.

What were your thoughts about the social circles around you then?

I lost my father when I was in 5th grade. I was 11 years old. My brother who used to live in France returned home and became the “reis” (chief) of the house. My brother was a very religious man. I invited him to my graduation for example but he didn’t attend due to his religious sensitivities. He wears a coif and gown and is a member of the Tablighi Jamaat He was introduced to the Tablighi Jamaat, which is centered in India, while in France. They are an extremely religious sect who are hardline devotees of their traditions.

What was your brother’s impact on the family?

After my father’s passing he became the chief of the house and sharia loomed over the house overnight. The T.V was removed. Hadith (the prophet Muhammed’s sayings/deeds) began to be read and spoken every night. I started going to the mosque. That summer they enlisted me for a Qur’an course which was run by the Sulaimani Jamia, which is a sunni jamia based in Turkey. I was the youngest in the course. It was no place for a 12 year old to be. They would wake you up early for morning prayers, then study time, classes, after school Qur’an classes etc… My family kept holding me back.

I was already getting fed up and one day I ran away from school. When I left the school to go to the market, I looked at the market, the road and the Qur’an course. ‘I will be trapped here if I don’t run’ I thought, and I ran. I remember walking about 15 kilometres to my house. People at home did not overreact. They asked ‘did you run?’ and I replied, ‘I will never go there again’. I returned to my previous primary school.

How did all this affect your relationship with your brother?

In return for his approval of my leaving the course, my brother dictated that I attend all my prayers in the mosque. I was in 7th grade. Going to morning prayers, the air was freezing! Frozen, I would return, have breakfast, then head to school. After school, I would head to the mosque again for afternoon prayers. This continued for a year and a half. I was also religious at the time.

Then I prepared for my high school exams. I managed to secure a place in the Anadolu high school. One of the big narratives that was instilled into me up until that point was hostility towards Atatürk. I used to listen to stories regarding Abdülhamit the second. One day, a friend of mine won a quiz programme and received a compendious Ottoman history book and presented it to me. I had only one book and no more. So I read a lot of Ottoman history. Almost memorised it. Thus, today I can understand the sentiment of citizens in favour of the Justice and Development Party (AKP) more easily. A certain sense of pride and vanity was being pumped into people by the notion that ‘The Ottoman Empire once ruled the world’. I can now understand how the narrative of a ‘rebirth of the Ottoman Empire’ can find such fertile ground in the country.

Did the same inclination continue into high school?

When I started high school I still had the same intellectual viewpoint. I remember my friends heavily criticising me during debates about Atatürk in class. My brother’s influence over me continued but it had also started to decompose. Just around this time I met some communist friends in school.

How were these changes reflected at home?

With the loss of my father there was a power vacuum in our house despite having an interfering brother. Although I did get some pocket money from my brother, I additionally received funds every three months from my scholarship in the state boarding school that I secured a place in, and dependence benefit for my father’s passing. Not being financially dependent played an important role for me to chart my own course. I got by with those payments. A relationship of dependency was thus avoided between me and my brother.

The assistant headmaster called my brother one day and said ‘Your brother – me – is causing anarchy in school!’ My brother was furious. It only caused me to be further interested in left-leaning literature. With the scholarship I received from the state, which was around 300 lira per month, I went down to TÜYAP book fair (in İstanbul) and purchased all the leftist publications I could. One day I came back home to find that my brother had gathered all my books and burnt them. After that, things started getting rough between us. My brother found some tickets in my bag for a band that had a Kurdish name. I was supposed to sell them for Halkevleri [civil rights organisation] but he confiscated them. Tension was building between my brother and me. I wore earrings during that period which also caused a stir between us.

How did you get into university?

Due to my interest in political movements throughout high school my grades were mainly low. I wouldn’t listen during class but would instead sit in the back and read. But I did prepare very well for my university accession exams during my last year of high school and managed to get amongst the 5000 highest-scoring students. Yet I still participated in political activism. I skipped class to attend the Gezi Park protests. I’d sleep in Taksim, in Gezi Park and meanwhile continued my studies. My aim was to be admitted to Galatasaray University but I enrolled in İstanbul University Law Faculty. I didn’t want to be in law faculty. I even considered turning back and getting into real estate.

How did your family receive your success?

My mom and brother were very happy. I had figured I’d quit school at 9th grade to attend the Tablighi Jamaat’s schools in Pakistan to become a religious scholar. My brother wished for the same but my mum was sternly against it. ‘Let my boy attend university,’ she had said. Then I started university and my goal was to become a prosecutor. I had the thought in my mind to be the king of my own little kingdom in Bitlis and Muş. I would study philosophy and become a prosecutor in a small town. The competitive atmosphere in İstanbul was frightening me but these thoughts changed when I started my internship on course to become an attorney. This internship had a positive effect on my courses and raised my grades. I was going to work in the morning and studying at night. Although my family was against it, my sister was attending a private teaching institution and I had to cover for it financially. They didn’t want her to study much because she was a girl. But she also managed to secure admission to university. We were really having a hard time to make ends meet throughout that period. I was having to work to support myself and my sister’s spending. I started working in a second lawyer’s office. That’s how six months went by.

Can you explain the process of your detention?

On the fifteenth day of starting work in a respected law firm within Turkey, I was arrested and later fired. I don’t hold it against them; it was normal for them not to take such a risk.

I was arrested the first week following the production of the ‘What is No?’ video I prepared, aimed at informing the voters of the upcoming constitutional referendum on the 16 April 2017. Pointing to a series of tweets they claimed belonged to my Twitter account, the authorities pressed charges of ‘insulting the President’ and ‘openly degrading religious values’. However, the account did not belong to me. Despite my attempts at explaining this, I was kept in prison for two months. I was placed on the infamous 9th ward of Silivri prison. After my release, I told this to the prosecutor to which he replied; ‘Oh really, we get so many documents that we can also end up making mistakes.’

How did the idea for the video come about?

We had a platform named ‘Strong Parliamentary Platform’. There were friends from CHP (Republican People’s Party/the main opposition party in Turkey) also present. We were one of the youngest initiatives on the ground. I had the idea to write and film a video. I initially wanted to film two separate videos, ‘What is Yes?’ and ‘What is No?’ as a means to enable access to information. I wrote the script and asked a friend for help with recording it. I was involved in all of its stages. We didn’t get to release the ‘What is Yes?’ video due to my detention.

Can you speak about your time in Silivri Prison?

I left behind the springtime of my youth in Silivri. I was 21 years old and was the youngest in my section. I met some interesting people there. There were those who cried, those who woke up at night to shower, and many others struggling to cope. You’re in a small place, and a plastic chair is all you have to sit on. You can’t step out of that tiny place till late afternoon. This is a very strange feeling. You only get leave to see a psychologist. I also went to see a psychologist. I had trouble sleeping. I was telling myself “how long will these people keep me locked up, I didn’t do anything. Perhaps they’ll never let me out.” I met Atilla Taş there [a journalist imprisoned on charges of aiding terrorism for social media sharing, released in December]. He knew about me, and had watched the video. He called me ‘Aliş’. I saw Hidayet Karaca. The ninth ward was a type of ‘celebrities ward’. Among the imprisoned there were HDP MPs, [Pro-democracy Pro-Kurdish party, second largest opposition party in Turkey with elected parliamentarians currently imprisoned on charges of aiding terrorism] those on trial for membership to FETÖ, [Fetullahist Terrorist Group, previous allies of the ruling AKP party in Turkey that the state now blames for orchestrating the failed coup attempt of 16 July 2016] DHKP-C arrestees etc. It was a strange place.

Looking at the outer gates of the prison, the thought of ‘will I get out of here someday?’ is really hurtful. You get a feeling like you’ll never walk out of that door. People on trial with life sentences surrounded me; some had even received their verdict. I was relatively better off. The prison changed my behavior massively. I was the restless, joyful type. Sometimes it feels like I left my joy in the prison. While I used to be a more funny man, today I’m quite different.

How did you manage to graduate?

I was put in prison during my final exams. After much tension between the administrators at Silivri, I managed to attend one exam. They brought me in through the back door of the school, hands cuffed. As if I had murdered someone. As if I’m Hannibal Lecter. The gendarmerie was standing straight with a rifle above my head while I was going through the exam. Despite all the conditions, I managed to turn in the paper and received 69 points from criminal proceedings class. It was one of the highest grades in the school, but I couldn’t attend the other two exams. I had to sit for make-up exams after I was released and managed to graduate school in four years without needing an extension.

My mother wears a black chador and I have always been proud of her. That’s why I wanted her to come to my graduation. To express that pride, I took a photo with my mom in front of the university and shared it on my social media account. My only memory of weeping in prison is to do with my mother. The day of my test was also the day for visits. I had told my mother not to come because I’d probably not make it in time. But I barely made it to the visiting hours and saw my mother from the bars of the car, walking back alone under the sun. That put a lump in my throat. I thought ‘I will not be able to see my mum’ so I asked the officer to reach out to her and get her to turn back. I started crying the minute I saw her during the visit. That’s the only time I wept in prison.