At their inauguration, public leaders
must swear to uphold unwritten law and weep
to atone for their presumption to hold office – Seamus Heaney, ‘From the Republic of Conscience’
With a Dublin Central by-election on the horizon, Irish politics appears to be descending into GUBU. The ‘grotesque, unbelievable, bizarre and unprecedented’ prospect of alleged crime boss Gerry ‘the Monk’ Hutch taking a seat in Dáil Éireann looms large in a May by-election triggered by the resignation of former Finance Minister Paschal Donohoe.
Supreme Court Justice Peter Charleton once inquired as to why I pleaded for John Gilligan not as a gentleman, but as a self-employed businessman. Gilligan’s singular presence and the shadow over the murder of Veronica Guerin engendered the Criminal Assets Bureau and The Proceeds of Crime Act 1996. This was the beginning of the end for Due Process in Ireland. In the interim, one form of organised crime mutated into another via NAMA and offshore accounts. Thus, Ireland’s Gangster Inc. of Cuckooand Vulture Funds was born.
Of course, Gilligan never held political office, but Hutch’s candidacy and near election to the Dáil in 2023 begs the question as to whether an alleged crime boss ought to be barred from holding political office. Any such prohibition would raise questions of definition, and indeed whether the activities of present or former office holders, including at least one former Minister for Justice I can think of, might fit that description.
There are obvious examples of corrupt politicians such as former Fianna Fáil T.D. Liam Lawlor, paid a small fortune by Beef Baron Larry Goodman, who remains one of the state’s richest citizens. During the 1980s a rogue’s gallery of grafters made their home in Leinster House. Today’s white collar criminals keep their finger nails clean, if not their toe nails, which remain firmly embedded in the dirt.
A drawing of Ned Kelly on a wall in Melbourne.
Art Imitating Life?
A hagiographic play recently staged in Dublin’s Ambassador Theatre offered an alternative take on the staid format of the party-political broadcast. Remarkably, the eponymous hero of ‘The Monk’ made a surprise appearance on stage on the opening night, taking part in a fictional live question-and-answer session with playwright and performer Rex Ryan.
The lineage of conventional – as opposed to de facto – Irish gangsters proceeds from Martin Cahill to Gilligan and the Kinahan Cartel, and on to Gerry Hutch. The Irish media display a morbid fascination mixed with veneration for their undeniable chutzpah – Martin Cahill’s costume clown appearances on multiple court appearances springs to mind.
It is certainly not an exclusively Irish phenomenon. In his autobiography, Geoffrey Robertson KC describes his fellow Australian’s veneration of the Wild Colonial Boy, Ned Kelly. Further evidence emanates from the global success of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Godfather (1970), or the many films of Martin Scorsese exploring mobsters’ lives.
It should be acknowledged that politics has always had close associations with crime, and not just in a state such as Italy under Andreotti or Berlusconi. The distribution of patronage and the promulgation of laws are often to the benefit of sectional, corporate or individual interests, who endeavour, and often grease, political machines with filthy lucre.
A dirty business requires forensic and independent journalism, and may even compromise those intent on cleaning it up. JFK’s brother Bobby went full throttle against organised crime post-election, but the former seems to have relied on shady elements to win the Presidential election. That unrequited love may have led, one way or another, to Dallas, Texas.
As Boby Dylan put it in ‘Murder Most Foul’:
Then they blew off his head when he was still in the car
Shot down like a dog in broad daylight
‘Twas a matter of timing and the timing was right
You got unpaid debts and we’ve come to collect
We’re gon’ kill you with hatred and without any respect
We’ll mock you and shock you, we’ll grin in your face
We’ve already got someone here to take your place
…
That’s the place where Faith, Hope and Charity died
That infamous day certainly paved the way for the cabal now in office: ‘Business is business and it’s murder most foul.’
Terrorist to Law-Maker?
A criminal and law-breaker, or even a terrorist, can also become a unifying figure like Nelson Mandela, a national hero such as Michael Collins, or more ambiguously, a peacemaker like Gerry Adams. Perhaps Gerry Hutch is on his own Road to Damascus. He certainly portrays himself as a latter-day Robin Hood, bent on exposing the criminality of Garda Síochána. Who knows what he’d come out with under Dáil privilege. If so what could he achieve?
Gary Gannon, the pearl-clutching Social Democrats T.D. from the same constituency claimed to have been shocked at seeing Hutch on the ballot paper last time out. Former Taoiseach, and legendary recipient of brown envelopes, Bertie Ahern described Gannon’s comments as ‘absolute nonsense,’ and noted with moral ambivalence and some subtlety:
Gerry Hutch has been around as long as me. I won’t get into morals or ethics but I have trampled that ground for 40 years and Hutch has been kind to the community in Dublin Central in indirect ways. Whether we like it or not, he is respected by people which explains his 3,000 votes. It is not just younger people voting for him, older people I know voted for him. We can all say the self-righteous things we want but the reaction is what it is.
It is noteworthy that Ahern’s political machine was colloquially known as the Drumcondra Mafia. At least when Hutch was growing up in the area, there were few options other than criminality for raising oneself out of poverty. Moreover, as Balzac put it: ‘Behind every great fortune there is a crime’ Which among the wealthiest individuals in Ireland have not soiled their bibs?
The distinction between conventional robber and a new breed of corporate robber barons is unclear, or how to evaluate it in ethical or moral terms. Perhaps the writ of the Monk is preferable to the Cuckoo Funds making housing unaffordable for most of the population?
George Galloway making his post-declaration speech at the 2024 Rochdale by-election.
Protest Vote
By-elections are an ideal opportunity for one-off protest votes. Consider the recent case of George Galloway who won the seat of Rochdale by a landslide in 2023, before losing it in the 2024 U.K. General Election.
The Irish diaspora have long been adept at bringing out the vote, arranging transfers, and indeed scouring electoral registers for the dead and the dying. Gerry Hutch has called on disenfranchised citizens to register to vote – just as the Democrats in the U.S. continue to leverage disenfranchised minorities.
His candidature is not unlike what one used to see in the U.K. with the Monster Raving Loony Party and Screaming Lord Sutch. Yet Hutch stands a real chance. And what if one were to advise him, however guardedly, on how to beat the established parties?
Garnering acceptance among floating voters, and picking up precious transfers, would require him to articulate political objectives, at least in outline. Apart from being critical of the conduct of the Gardaí, what does he stand for?
The Dublin Central constituency has some of the worst poverty in the state, alongside new hipster wealth and significant immigration in recent years. A manifesto of sorts would be worthwhile, addressing the concerns of native Dubliners in particular, and hopefully encouraging greater acceptance of diversity. Tony Gregory brought great benefits to the area. An independent candidate like Hutch might be able to perform a similar role.
Corruption ought to be condemned, but violence should never be condoned. A reformed Hutch might have greater clout among troublesome elements than most politicians when addressing the current wave of violent crime. Recent fuel protests reveal Ireland to be on the brink.
It remains to be seen whether Gerry Hutch has any real ideas for addressing the enduring problems of access to housing, health and education, or the increasing lawlessness in city centre, as the State continues to fail in its primary duty to keep the peace.
Tom Wolfe in 1988.
Radical Chic
Tom Wolfe in his 1970 New Yorker essay ‘Radical Chic: That Party at Lenny’s’ used the term to satirize composer Leonard Bernstein and his friends for their absurdity in hosting a fundraising party for the Black Panthers. Wolfe’s concept of radical chic lampooned individuals (not unlike jet setters such as Paddy Cosgrave and his ‘Whistleblower’ Café) who endorsed leftist radicalism to affect worldliness, assuage white guilt, or garner prestige, rather than to affirm genuine political convictions.
In short, Radical Chic is described as a form of highly developed decadence; and its greatest fear is to be seen not as prejudiced or unaware, but as middle-class. One suspects, however, that their Irish equivalents would be wary of Gerry Hutch, but let’s see.
At one level I endorse his candidature as a means of giving the establishment a kick up the posterior, but it remains to be seen whether he possess any real ideas for addressing the issues I have alluded to. In the Kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. Perhaps the best that can be said of Gerry Hutch is that he might prove to be a superior form of gangster than the rest.
American journalist Amanda Knox joins Frank Armstrong to discuss the case of English nurse Lucy Letby. Knox was herself falsely charged with murdering her roommate Meredith Kerchner in Italy in 2007 and spent four years in prison.
Lucy Letby was a nurse working in the neonatal unit of the Countess of Chester hospital. She was found guilty of murdering seven babies in her care in 2023, based primarily on statistical evidence and statements she made apparently implicating her.
Amanda has found parallels with her treatment by the British media, and points to major flaws in the prosecution case.
Ryszard Kapuściński in Imperium (1993) warned of three plagues, or contagions threatening the world: nationalism, racism and fundamentalism. He further identified one shared trait or a common denominator in ‘an aggressive all powerful total irrationality,’ arguing that ‘[a]nyone stricken with one of these plagues is beyond reason. In his head burns a sacred pyre that awaits its sacrificial victims.’
The lunatics have now well and truly taken over the asylum worldwide. We are now witnessing a new unholy war being led by evangelical Christians against Islam, just as earlier crusades emanated from Europe in the Middle Ages. And like those earlier wars, the acquisition of plunder is clearly a motivating factor.
Noticeably, the clearly sociopathic Pete Hegseth talks of the Iran war as God’s War, and the soldiery are briefed accordingly. Trump uses similar language, but holy wars often occlude terrestrial agendas. Add the dimension of rampant technology, wherein war is conducted remotely in video game sequences and one reaches a level of savagery reminiscent of the 1940s. Meanwhile AI plunders our libraries and distorts our reality with propagandist bombast.
Hegseth’s macabre ceremonies in the White House have included Doug Wilson, the founder of the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches. He has stated that homosexuality should be a crime and that women shouldn’t be allowed to vote. As editor of The Princeton Tory, Hegseth also suggested that homosexuality was immoral.
In March 2026, soon after the start of the U.S./Israeli attack – branded with the biblical denotation Operation Epic Fury – it has been reported that military leaders told their service members that the war was ‘part of God’s divine plan,’ and that President Donald Trump had been anointed by Jesus. One commander quoted the Book of Revelation, and said the war will bring the second coming of Jesus Christ. The whole exercise has a distinct air of Stanley Kubrick’s Dr Strangelove (1959).
The legendary punk band, The Dead Kennedys album In God We Trust Inc (1982) curiously presages our times, but none of what is being done in God’s name is properly Kennedyesque, or indeed genuinely Christian. It appears to be an extension of what Eisenhower warned of the existential threat of the Military Industrial Complex. Wars. As IG Farben and Bleichroder knew, wars are a great source of revenue.
The leading Catholic legal philosopher John Finnis is also a believer in God’s law. Marriage is for him exclusively between a man and a woman and purely for procreation. He considers homosexual congress and sex outside marriage as intrinsically shameful, immoral and harmful. In Natural Law and Natural Rights (1980) he compares abortion to carpet bombing civilians. Sadly, murdering the civilian population of Iran does not appear to bother the zealots in the White House to the same extent as interfering with women’s reproductive rights.
Jonathan Sacks, the leading contemporary Jewish philosopher in the U.K. railed against extremism. In Morality (2020) he outlined positive religious values, including a focus on dignity, associative levels of responsibility, community and a sense of public service and the common good. Is all of this now lost on the Likud faction in Israel?
Christian jihadism, historically, also includes the horrendous conquest of South America by Spanish Conquistadors. In modern times the Blairite justification, couched at one level in Christian terms, for the war on Iraq was also used to mask narrow self-interest in securing oil. The war in Iran, now engulfing the entire Middle East, also has significant acquisitive elements, but is more obviously an attack on what is perceived in racial terms as a satanic culture.
Shortly before his death Sacks equated altruistic evil with the neoconservative group, who held themselves to be good and their opponents to be evil. This leads to the arrogant imperialist assumptions that ‘we’ are inflicting punishment for ‘their’ own good, and that killing multitudes will pave the way to democracy.
Both the late Christopher Hitchens, and indeed Richard Dawkins, have written extensively about the new forms of religious extremes we are witnessing, with the finger of blame primarily pointed at Islam. Islamic extremism does provide graphic examples of brutal beheadings, mass executions, stoning to death for adultery, planes hitting the Twin Towers, as well as the murder of journalists. There is also evident in Britain a lack of integration, and a secessionism unconducive to any kind of harmonious multiculturalism. Recourse to genocide, however, seems to be the preserve of evangelical Christians and Zionists.
Osama bin Laden (L) sits with his adviser and purported successor Ayman al-Zawahiri (Foto: HO/Scanpix 2011)
Islamic Rage
Much of the Islamic rage can be traced to neo-imperialism in the Middle East. The current phase began in earnest with the invasion of Iraq, and has culminated in this attack on Iran.
Christopher Hitchens’ worst intellectual error, inexcusable in my view, was to support the Bush-Blair invasion of Iraq. He was, indirectly, supporting, though he might not have seen it, an even worse form of religious fundamentalism directed against another.
In works such as Culture and Imperialism (1994) and Orientalism (1978) the Palestinian author Edward Said author asserted that ‘Patriotism, chauvinism, ethnic, religious and racial hatreds can lead to mass destructiveness.’ He cites our own Conor Cruise O’Brien to the effect that imagined communities of identity are hijacked by the petty dictators of state nationalism, like Benjamin Netanyahu.
In Marxist terms, religious fundamentalism can be traced to growing disparities of wealth and structural inequality, as well as a lack of opportunities to gain a rounded education. We have seen an all-too-great an emphasis on technical or scientific education for economic advancement, as opposed to a broad liberal education that inculcates critical thinking.
In these straitened times extremism speaks of a need to belong to a cause, leading to belief in something ethereal, no matter how ludicrous. Belief in an afterlife defines people’s existences and justifies even self-immolation.
As the wheels come off the neoliberal economic system and the societal bonds wither, extremist Christian nationalism and the demonisation of the other has stepped into the void to provide solace.
Passion Conferences, a music and evangelism festival at Georgia Dome in Atlanta, Georgia, United States, in 2013.
U.S. Evangelism
In the United States, we are witnessing an unholy synergy between Evangelical Christians and racism. Far-right demagogues have articulated a view that ‘our’ country is being overrun by immigrants and that the dominant ethnic group must ‘take back control’ from a phantom intellectual Marxism espoused by liberal elites, Harvard or straight socialism. All of these apparently emanate from the decadence of a mixed race cosmopolis. The fire is spreading to Europe, U.K and Ireland too.
Thus, we find a global descent into the extremist and racist abyss, where those we disagree with are scapegoated and targeted. This is a product of a dualistic mode of thinking, which Sacks identifies with a need to define God in relation to the Satan residing in others. This leads to the demonisation of those we disagree with, evident also in social media vilification.
What the Christian far-right in the United States and elsewhere offer is the establishment of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth, which involves isolation of the righteous few in gated communities, segregating the rich chosen people from the disaster they inflict on others.
The now tarnished Noam Chomsky once claimed that the Republican Party is the ‘most dangerous organization in world history.’ Chomsky also claimed in a BBC Newsnight interview that nearly 40% of the American public believe that the Second Coming will occur by 2050. So, Pete Hegseth may be preaching to the converted.
Brazilian President Lula with Pope Francis 21.06.2023 Foto: Ricardo Stuckert/PR
Religion as Agent for Good?
Alternatively, in The Godless Gospel (2020) Julian Baggini calls for forms of religion shorn of hatred so we may realise our best intentions and develop empathy and compassion. He envisages a commitment to personal humility and an obligation and commitment to the truth, causing as little harm as possible. There are clearly good values that Christianity may teach to those of a secular persuasion presently lacking in moral clarity.
Above all, the atheist and perhaps the leading intellect left on the planet Jurgen Habermas recognises how religion engenders social integration, and can be a basis for communicative action, his core concept. As far back as 1978 he argued, from a secular perspective, for the necessity of religious ideas to humanise society. These would be religious ideas where we learn to communicate reasonably without resort to falsetto Jihadism.
The former Pope Francis’s experiences in the barrios of Buenos Aires also appear to have shaped an empathy towards the wretched of the Earth. He preached tolerance and engagement, as well as social and economic justice. The present Pope has, encouragingly, in un-American fashion, condemned what is happening, however mutedly. Let us hope that he is untainted by the dark money of the Vatican and does not go the way of John Paul II.
Christian socialism is a potentially vital force if it reflects the values of what Philip Pullman calls that great man Jesus, but not the values, as he equally presents, of that scoundrel Jesus Christ. This latter is a distortion of New Testament values, dedicated to the accumulation of capital, a lack of compassion and political manipulation.
Neo-feudalism
We appear to be witnessing Old Testament fury, but beyond the zealotry it seems that neoliberalism is morphing into neo-feudalism. The Book of Genesis sanctions man’s dominion over the Earth, which appears to be permitting a scorched earth approach, but this is a smoke screen. Institutional Evangelical Christianity is wedded to the exchange of goods, along with the exchange of gods. Drill Baby Drill.
The last word I leave to Clarence Darrow, who represented a progressive America of another era in his closing speech in The Scopes Trial:
Ignorance and fanaticism are ever busy and need feeding. Always it is feeding and gloating for more.——-, it is the setting of man against man and creed against creed until with flying banners and beating drums we are marching backward to the glorious ages of the sixteenth century when bigots lighted fagots to burn the men who dared to bring any intelligence and enlightenment and culture to the human mind.
Those who suffer from toxic nationalism, toxic religious mania and toxic racism are beyond reason and must be overcome.
Feature Image: Some of Pete Hegseth’s tattoos, 2021
For this episode, we have asked our friend and contributor, Greek journalist and filmmaker, Alexis Daloumis, to sit in for an interview with Luke Sheehan about his newly released Documentary Belki Sibe.
Back in 2015 Alexis travelled in northern Syria to Rojava, to join the Kurdish Syrian Democratic Forces and soon was deployed on the frontlines as a member of the International Freedom battalion.
His documentary depicts with unprecedented candour and rawness his eighteen-month journey through war and revolution, during the advances and victory against Isis, the liberation of Raqqa in 2017, until then, the Islamic State capital and stronghold.
The documentary also includes new footage and interviews from his subsequent visit in 2021 to the same places and cities where he once fought.
Now, as a journalist, his camera turns to scrutinize civil life and institutions under the autonomous Kurdish administration.
In light of recent developments, we asked Alexis to talk about the making of his documentary, his experiences on the frontlines and that of his comrades, as well as the potential dangers that loom over the area and its people, now that United States has withdrawn its support to the autonomous Kurdish administration in favour of the newly established Syrian Central Government after the fall of the Assad’s regime.
While Israel has made Gaza synonymous with its genocide, a rich cultural heritage, now largely destroyed, paints a completely different picture. The introduction to Archiving Gaza in the Present: Memory Culture and Erasure states that the book serves as “a reminder that Gaza as we see it today in the media’s live-streaming coverage of the war, miserable, shattered and deformed is not the Gaza that saw the unfolding of many civilisations.”
The book is a compilation of papers and visual material presented at a two-day conference in November 2024 in London, a little over a year since Israel unleashed its genocide in Gaza. The level of annihilation and erasure – not only of Gaza’s infrastructure but also of its historical sites – made archiving and preservation more urgent. Palestine’s historical and cultural heritage is presented in the book through the contributions of various artists, historians, lawyers, curators, archaeologists, poets and journalists. Described as an ‘archive of Gaza in the present’, the book illustrates the process of archiving even as Israel continued to wage its destructive campaign.
There is also an urgency to archive. In 2024, halfway through the genocide before the ceasefire announcement, which Israel has now violated hundreds of times, the world was witnessing a replica of the 1948 Nakba. This time they were using sophisticated military technology resulting in unprecedented destruction of Palestinian lives, culture and heritage in Gaza. For example, camps established in the aftermath of the 1948 Nakba, during which thousands of Palestinians fled to Gaza, were bombed in Israel’s genocide: “The names of camps are becoming those of mass graves.”
With each massacre, Israel erases a part of Gaza. The compilation of essays and visual material in the book show not only the magnitude of destruction, but how much of that destruction is unknown to the West.
Salman Abu Sitta, for example, notes that Gaza is the only place in Palestine which never took down the Palestinian flag since before the Nakba. Gaza was also the first to play a central role in the anti-colonial struggle and refugee political organisation. Gaza’s traits are largely overlooked due to the colonial impositions inflicted on it. Indeed, as Abu Sitta notes, the term ‘Gaza Strip’ is a product of this recent colonisation.
Archiving Gaza is a decolonial act, happening at a time of political and demographic erasure. Many artists in Gaza have had their studios destroyed in Israel’s bombing, their work decimated, yet continue to express themselves and their wider communities in Gaza.
Thus, art became a way to document the genocide, using whatever materials were available. Some artists directed their efforts towards art therapy. One particular collection of images that stands out in the book is Ahmed Muhanna’s art work, drawn on the packaging of humanitarian aid boxes: “He began drawing on them, incorporating the stamped warning ‘Not for Sale or Exchange’ into his compositions – reframing it as an artistic and philosophical element.”
Several artworks now deal with memories of genocide, memories of Palestinians killed by Israel, memories of being still alive amid the erasure. Maisara Baroud states: “In my work, I express the story beyond the official narrative. It is the story of war that produces a tremendous capacity for harm, conquering distance, geography, and even the speed of sound to bring death to more people in less time.”
Prior to the genocide, Gaza was a thriving art hub, with residencies, art programmes, exhibitions and grants for artists. The art department at the Al-Aqsa University in Gaza was established in 1995, the same year the university was recognised, and it played a major role in promoting art through academic programmes. In 2021, recognising the restrictions as well as earlier destruction, the concept of the Sahab Museum (The Museum of the Clouds) was implemented, preserving material and digital works in a curated virtual space that is also an act of resistance. It decolonises Gaza through Palestinian memory, “providing an attempt to respond to the destruction of cultural archives, which lies at the heart of colonial policy.”
The book also documents Gaza’s deceased artists. One example is Fathi Ghaben, who died after inhaling white phosphorus. His paintings are synonymous with Palestinian resistance, depicting the Palestinian flag as well as other cultural symbols in his art, leading to his arrest and detention by Israel in the 1980s. Another Palestinian artist from Gaza, Mahasen al-Khatib was killed in October 2024, just hours after publishing her last artwork depicting Sha’ban al-Dalou, who was burnt alive following a strike on the tents outside al-Aqsa Hospital.
The striking discrepancy between Ghaben’s paintings and the art produced during the genocide illustrate both devastation and displacement. Apart from the bombed buildings, burnt vehicles, what stands out is Gaza and its population as a multitude of barely discernible figures. Masses of people awaiting food, landscapes of tents. Upon viewing the images, one pauses to think of the population’s individual identities in the midst of these scenes, and that is where the horror surges through.
Fathi Ghaben 1947-2024.
Rich Cultural Heritage
Shifting from past to present and back to the past again, the essays in the book attest to both Gaza’s rich cultural heritage, ancient civilisations and Israel’s erasure. Six thousand years of history have been battered into oblivion by Israel to sustain the myth of a barren land ripe for colonisation. Hosting two hundred archaeological sites, Israel targeted Gaza prior to the genocide in a bid to assert its fabricated narrative of ownership over the land through archaeology and excavations. The first archaeological discovery was made before the British Mandate in 1879 in Nuseirat – a statue of Zeus which now forms part of the Istanbul Archaeological Museum. From 1967 onwards, excavations were carried out by the Israeli military.
Jawdat Khoudary, a Palestinian from Gaza, started his own private collection of antiquities after finding an Islamic glass coin. With over 3,000 artefacts dating back from 2000 BC to the Ottoman Empire, Khoudary eventually decided to establish the region’s first archaeological museum in 2008. In February 2024, the museum was completely obliterated by Israel.
The book refers to Polish lawyer Raphael Lemkin who coined the word genocide and who identified eight dimensions: political, social, cultural, economic, biological, physical, religious and moral. Israel’s eradication of Gaza illustrates how each of these components is intertwined in the systematic erasure of land and generations of people.
The erasure also limits the Palestinians people’s struggle for self-determination. Israel destroyed numerous libraries in Gaza during the genocide, but before that, it had already looted most of Palestine’s archives during the 1948 Nakba, which are now held in Israel’s State Archive and the National Library. Quoting Palestinian scholar Mezna Qato, the book notes that Palestine’s history is under Israeli state surveillance: “To tell a history of Palestine now often requires seeking access through Israeli state keepers.”
The Islamic University of Gaza in 2021.
As a result of Israel’s colonial violence, Gaza’s exclusion from the rest of the world is amplified in several ways. Education is one example – Western universities do not engage with Gaza’s universities, as Israel’s colonial narrative is increasingly upheld in academic institutions. The exclusion of Gaza can also be traced back to the British Mandate and the 1948 Nakba, during which the entirety of Palestine faced restrictions on curriculum expansion and resources. Since October 2023, however, Israel moved from destruction to annihilation of Gaza’s education system. Other parts of Gaza’s history are also overlooked and largely unknown to the world, such as the history of aviation in Gaza and how this was also linked to Zionist colonial violence.
Archiving Gaza in the present, as the book title states, represents quite a contradiction. Archiving in the face of erasure primarily presents one dilemma, as the book states in the case of archaeology, “Given the ongoing humanitarian, economic and environmental crises in Gaza, identifying new archaeological sites is not currently a priority.” However, the altered landscape requires an urgency to channel efforts towards preservation.
But altered land presents a major problem. As the book shows, so much of Gaza has been lost that its very survival as a distinct entity has been placed in peril. Amid striving to safeguard their own survival in a land reduced to rubble, Palestinians are also aware of the necessity of preserving what can be salvaged, at a time when they are also preserving their own history of the genocide. International humanitarian law has failed Palestinians, as the book asserts. A Palestinian oral history thus becomes not only central but imperative. As the international community rallies behind the U.S. 20-point plan for Gaza, which upholds the Zionist narrative of a barren land in the current genocidal erasure, reclaiming Gaza in recollections, and wider Palestinian narratives, is an important part of decolonisation.
In complete defiance to the Zionist narrative, this collection of essays and photos stand as testimony to Gaza as Palestinians know and remember it.
Feature Image: Forced Displacement of Palestinians in the Gaza Strip devastated by Israeli bombing, January 29, 2025.
The Turkish phrase Gözaltına alınıyorum translates simply as: ‘I’m being taken into custody.’ This was selected by the independent media outlet T24 as the phrase of the year for 2025. Had it not been that, in my view, it just as easily could have been Türkiye’de yargı bağımsızdır, meaning ‘the judiciary in Turkey is independent,’ a line repeated endlessly, like a tongue-twister, by Ministers and MPs from Erdoğan’s ruling party, the AKP. And yes, I’m being ironic.
On March 19, Turkey woke up to a morning marked by an operation aimed at eliminating the possibility of a change in power through elections, and declaring open war on institutional opposition.
The mayor of the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality (IMM) and the opposition’s presidential hopeful, Ekrem İmamoğlu, was taken into custody along with dozens of IMM employees and close members of his team. Shortly afterward, university students organized and gathered in front of Istanbul University main campus, marching toward Saraçhane, which is the location of the Istanbul mayoral headquarters, just a couple of kilometers away.
Then more people joined. And more.
Emergency bans on unauthorized demonstrations and marches were imposed at lightning speed. Metro and bus services were cancelled by government decree to block access to the area. The police presence and traffic checkpoints increased rapidly. Even these hastily implemented measures – designed specifically to prevent people from gathering in front of the IMM headquarters – failed to stop hundreds of thousands from filling the streets within hours.
In the days that followed, people maintained a vigil through the nights, both at Çağlayan Courthouse, where Mayor İmamoğlu was taken, and in front of the municipality building. They refused to leave the Squares.
While all this was unfolding, people like me – those watching from afar living abroad – fell into a grimly familiar ritual. Every morning around 6am, opening X (Twiiter) meant watching your entire timeline fill, within seconds, with posts like:
“I’m being taken into custody.”
“Police raided my home at dawn. I’m being taken into custody.”
“The police came to my apartment in Şişli around 4:30 a.m. Please take care of my dog. I think I’m being taken into custody.”
There were dozens of such tweets. Some days, without exaggeration, hundreds.
Turkey Isn’t Outside the West. It Helped Build It
Fast forward to today. Ekrem İmamoğlu, along with over 400 others, has been held in pretrial detention for nine months. Those detained include sixteen mayors from the main opposition Republican People’s Party (CHP); his lawyer, Mehmet Pehlivan; his election campaign adviser, Necati Özkan; his drivers, Recep Cebeci and Zekai Kıratlı (whose names do not even appear in the 4,000-page indictment); his assistant, Kadriye Kasapoğlu; district mayor Murat Çalık, a two-time cancer survivor currently undergoing treatment; and hundreds of others I cannot possibly list here.
As I write these lines, social media is once again flooded with news of fresh crackdowns targeting the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality. The municipality’s deputy secretary general, the head of the fire department, Remzi Albayrak, and dozens of others have been taken into custody as part of the ongoing operations against İmamoğlu and his circle.
All of these individuals are accused of forming a criminal organization, corruption, causing public financial loss, and terrorism – charges that, over time, have increasingly been reframed as espionage, alongside several other alleged crimes.
According to legal professionals and academics, these accusations are laid out in an indictment of roughly 4,000 pages that does not read as if it were prepared with professional rigour. The document has been widely criticized for being grossly inflated, riddled with technical errors, filled with repetitive sections, reliant almost exclusively on anonymous “secret witness” testimony, and strikingly devoid of concrete or substantiated evidence. More troubling still, some of the more than 400 people currently in detention are not even named in the indictment, yet they remain behind bars.
Very recently, the European Court of Human Rights decided to fast-track Ekrem İmamoğlu’s case, specifically his application concerning unlawful detention. The application was filed by his lawyer, Mehmet Pehlivan who is himself currently in detention.
Yet the European Court of Human Rights, along with international institutions more broadly, is increasingly portrayed by the Erdoğan government, now in its twenty-third year in power, as anti-national, foreign-backed, and unpatriotic. In official rhetoric, these institutions are cast as insufficiently “domestic” and allegedly hostile to Turkey’s national interests.
This framing follows a familiar authoritarian script, but reality is more complicated, and far less convenient. Turkey is not an outsider to the Western political and legal order. It helped build it.
Turkey is a founding signatory to the European Convention on Human Rights and a member of the Council of Europe, making it legally bound by both the Convention’s provisions and the case law of the European Court of Human Rights. It is also a party to the core United Nations human rights treaties.
What, then, is the purpose of this fabricated, anti-Western, exclusionary narrative?
‘Down With Tyranny, Long Live Freedom!’
The aim is to crush resistance, normalize sweeping losses of rights, freedoms, and prosperity, and impose a “new Turkey” modelled on a hybrid of Central Asian authoritarianism, Russian-style rule, and the institutional failures of parts of the post-colonial Middle East.
This vision is fundamentally incompatible with Turkey’s realities: its diverse socio-cultural fabric and, more importantly, its socio-political legacy of more than two centuries of struggle for democracy and modernization.
That legacy dates back to 1839, a decisive turning point in Ottoman history, when decades-long, Western-oriented reform efforts were institutionalized through the Tanzimat Edict. These reforms eventually led to the establishment of the first parliament and the first civilian constitution in 1876.
With the Tanzimat Edict, Ottoman subjects were recognized as equal citizens for the first time. Egalitarian reforms in areas such as taxation and military service aimed to ensure that non-Muslims, alongside Turkish Muslim citizens, bore the same duties and responsibilities toward the state.
The reforms also sought to guarantee the security of life, property, and honour for all citizens; to ensure property could be lawfully inherited; to establish transparency in judicial proceedings; and to prohibit executions without due process.
These principles were not merely rhetorical. Concrete regulations gave them legal force, and the constitution that followed formally limited and distributed the powers of the sultan.
In 1858, homosexuality was decriminalized, making the Ottoman Empire the second state in the world, after France in 1791, to take such a remarkable step.
The path toward building a republic grounded in parliamentary democracy and equal citizenship, however, was never linear. As in France, Italy, or Japan, and many other democracies, progress came through reversals and ruptures. The Ottoman Empire’s first constitution was suspended and parliament dissolved, only to be reinstated three decades later. As borders across Europe were redrawn through wars and upheaval, this turbulent process culminated in the founding of the Republic of Turkey.
Like other nations, Turks did not abandon the desire for a better future or the struggle required to build it. Today, however, all of this is under threat.
President Erdoğan has amassed more power than many Ottoman sultans and continues to seek more. Research by the V-Dem Institute at the University of Gothenburg shows that Turkey’s democracy score stood at 0.17 in the early 1900s, rose to 0.53 in the early years of the republic, reached 0.74 in 2002 when Erdoğan’s AKP first came to power, and has since fallen back to 0.18.
It is no coincidence that a slogan more than a century old has returned to the streets: Kahrolsun istibdat, yaşasın hürriyet! meaning ‘Down with tyranny, long live freedom.’ It has been one of the most frequently chanted slogans at the Saraçhane demonstrations following İmamoğlu’s imprisonment.
For more than two decades, Turkey’s media has been monopolized by oligarchs handpicked by Erdoğan. As a result, the voices of ordinary, hardworking, middle class Turks have been largely silenced, especially abroad. Deliberate policies have severed society’s connection with the outside world, suppressed public expression, and helped cement an image of Turkey as a failed democracy which is a perception many in the West has accepted uncritically.
The Syrian war, and the years-long influx of refugees have reinforced this distorted view. Since 2012, Turkey has become nearly inseparable from Syria in the Western imagination, as if the country had absorbed another nation entirely. Over more than a decade, this association has come at steep economic, political, and moral costs, leaving Turkey and Syria almost interchangeable in the minds of outsiders.
It is precisely these deliberately erased realities of Turkey that I want to bring back into focus in this article.
Through its constitution, Turkey is a parliamentary democracy, and until roughly a decade ago, it functioned as one, at least since 1950, around the same time many Western democracies were consolidating. Eastern Europe, by contrast, remained under authoritarian rule until the 1990s. Since 2017, however, Turkey has gradually morphed into an electoral autocracy, with steadily eroding rights and freedoms.
Yet Turkish society itself is not defined by these trends. Erdoğan is attempting to impose a regime change against the will of the people.
Even before the unlawful detention of İmamoğlu and hundreds of others, a 2024 PEW Research survey showed that 67 percent of Turks were dissatisfied with the country’s democracy. Among those under 35, that figure rises to 75 percent. Eighty percent of respondents support direct, electoral democracy, while 62 percent reject the idea of indefinite rule by a strongman.
In another striking example, 56 percent of people in Turkey believe that religious texts – given the country’s Muslim-majority population, in this case the Quran – should have no influence over the constitution or laws. This figure is several times higher than in other Muslim-majority countries, where comparable research could be conducted.
For context, the same survey analyzed thirty-six countries, including Tunisia, which experienced a brief period of parliamentary democracy between 2011 and 2021 and today scores slightly higher than Turkey on democracy indices. Yet Tunisia is excluded from the section of the study that examines the role of the Quran in politics simply because even asking such questions is socially unacceptable there, despite Tunisia being one of the West’s preferred points of comparison with Turkey. By comparison, the equivalent figures are 51 percent in the United States, 57 percent in Poland (referring to the Bible), 54 percent in Israel (Jewish scripture), and just 12 percent in India (Hindu scripture).
Only 17 percent of people in Turkey believe religious texts should influence national laws. By contrast, the figure is 66 percent in Indonesia (home to Bali, often perceived as a globally famous, relatively secular tourist destination), 22 percent in our complex, love-hate neighbor Greece, and 28 percent in the United States.
Why does this matter?
The overwhelming majority of Turks, regardless of religiosity or whether they vote for Erdoğan and the AKP, support Turkey’s constitutional definition as a secular, parliamentary, democratic republic. They want these founding principles to remain intact, and they are deeply dissatisfied with the current system of governance.
A new constitutional amendment is expected soon. Just as previous amendments were justified with buzzwords like “military oversight,” “judiciary status quo,” or “democratization,” the government is likely to use the cultural rights demands of Turkey’s ethnic minorities, particularly the Kurds, as a pretext for a full constitutional overhaul. In reality, these issues could be addressed through minor, targeted adjustments without rewriting the constitution.
In the near future, many will try to tell you otherwise. Please, don’t believe them.
Gaza’s history since the Nakba of 1948 is punctuated by waves of forced displacement. The enclave has been the epicentre of Palestinian refugees since 1948, having welcomed Palestinians from all over the colonised territories. Since Israel’s genocide against Palestinians in Gaza began in October 2023 its entire population of over two million, in a territory of just 151 km2, has been rendered internally displaced persons.
Displaced in Gaza: Stories from the Gaza Genocide, Edited by Yousef M Aljamal, Norma Hashim, Noor Nabulsi, and Zoe Jannuzi (Haymarket Books, 2025) is a collection of twenty-seven testimonies of Palestinians living in Gaza enduring the genocide. An immediate response upon reading through the chapter titles is: to what extent have we become desensitised as spectators or activists? And, moreover, what is the link, or disconnect, between this wider perception of a genocide occurring and a person living through it?
It begs the question, when reading through the testimonies, after more than two years how much can our mind take before the experiences themselves, narrated by survivors, merely become background noise? With the daily recounting of Israel’s kill toll being reduced to statistical data – a roll call similar to the reporting of Covid cases that gradually desensitised the listener – can our minds link back to the human tragedy?
Of course we should. For the chapter titles speak of a shattered, mundane reality. Birthdays morph into atrocities. Education is ruptured by bombs. A woman is widowed by targeted assassination. A husband is killed while searching for food. Entire families are wiped out. The details are so mundane, so quotidian, yet genocide is an immense, unforgivable laceration in both its experience and the memory if it. That memory should, and must, extend to the rest of us. Narratives can combat desensitisation, as long as we know what to prioritise.
In the foreword to the book, Ahmad Alnaouq writes:
Everyone on Gaza is now a citizen journalist, determined more than ever to confront and challenge the Western media narrative – the demonising and dehumanising of the Palestinians, the lack of agency recognised, and the distortion of truth.
This collection of testimonies directly challenges the Western hegemonic narrative which, even while reporting the official genocide kill toll, still finds ways of sanitising bloodshed and diminishing the humanity of Palestinian survivors. The kill toll is represented in two ways – as a statistic that either supports sporadic calls for accountability or offered in support of Israel “finishing the job.”
Yousef Al-Jamal references the Palestinian poet and academic Refaat Alareer, who was killed by Israel in 2023, and for whom storytelling was an integral component of Palestinian history.
‘For centuries,’ AL-Jamal writes, ‘Palestinians have tended the rich oral history of Palestine, preserving cultural heritage, including folktales and stories about the land.’ This collection of narratives from the Gaza genocide is a contribution to Palestine’s oral history, and one that, due to its international dissemination, cannot be destroyed by Israel.
The personal narratives in this book speak of a disrupted simplicity, but not a disrupted normality. This includes death or killing, displacement, hunger, the tribulations of living and enduring life under a highly militarised genocide. We find the disruption of education and attempts to teach, as well as the full spectrum of forced displacement including of a Nakba survivor, along with attempts to rebuild a semblance of normality even as Israel destroys Gaza’s infrastructure. Even before the genocide, Palestinians in Gaza faced immense hardships and restrictions which were normalised into manageable deprivation, even by international institutions.
For many Palestinians, as evidenced by several contributors to this anthology, the large scale killing meant that families were welcoming other relatives into their midst. At times it was orphaned children, as was the case with Aisha Osama Abu Ajwa, a mother of four children who began taking care of two children whose parents were killed when Israel bombed an entire residential block. In her description of forced displacement, Abu Ajwa writes, ‘The children witnessed dozens of martyrs’ bodies strewn on the ground. They cried intensely, while blood covered the streets.’
‘I hope war ends soon. Eight months of continuous killing exhausts us,’ writes Fidaa Fathi Abu Yousef, whose son was killed while riding a bike just 800m away from the family home.
Another recurring horror is Palestinians fleeing to supposedly safe zones, while Israel bombs move in the direction the displaced are heading, leaving not only a trail of displacement but bloodshed. The killing of Palestinian children, as described by the narrators of this genocide, encompass all ages. The visibility of Israel killing children is magnified when the writers note the dead children’s ages. Thus removed from the general term, the children take on meaningful identities; allowing the reader to recognise how Israel has attempted to obliterate Palestinians through its killing of the younger generations. Children killed on their birthday, children killed while sleeping, the tragedy is portrayed through the eyes of the living, bereaved and those unable to process their loss due to a perpetual quest for survival.
Their attempt to persist in living instead of perishing at times makes the writing of these recollections and experiences become slightly devoid of emotion. Emotion almost becomes a luxury when surviving a genocide, but the almost matter-of-fact narratives in this collection make grief all the more important, not only to grasp but experience. Israel has not only wiped entire families out and lacerated others beyond repair, it has also obliterated entire psychological processes that are necessary when experiencing traumatic events. In the midst of a genocide, Palestinians are unable to experience the grieving process.
Incessant worry about family members displaced in different locations around Gaza is another hardship Palestinians must endure. Without means of communication for the most part, relatives receive no news of each other. ‘Gaza is small, yet we have not seen each other since the war began. We have not reunited. I know nothing of my sons. My life’s dream is to reunite with them in one home before my death,’ Yusra Salem Abu Awad states in her narrative.
The script flips to a twelve-year-old boy, Youssef Qawash, writing about how he has lost his father and uncle in a bombing and not knowing whether his father’s remains will ever be discovered. ‘My uncles have searched in Deir al-Balah and Maghazi, but no one knows where my father is buried,’ Qawash ponders, noting that his father might still be buried under the rubble of destroyed houses.
The ramifications of starvation are reflected in Najlaa Al-Kafarna’s story. Her husband was killed while searching for food for the family on the third day of the genocide, which was their second day of forced displacement. Six other relatives were also massacred in their search for food. Her special needs son, Muhammad, is malnourished and lacks medication and physical therapy sessions.
Throughout most of the narratives in the book, the cry for food recurs. So does the lack of basic necessities, and the wearing of the same clothes through different seasons. We find the rationing of flour, and the shelling of a school while forcibly displaced Palestinians are baking bread. The deprivation is exacerbated by employment being almost non-existent during the genocide. Profound mental health issues as a result of ongoing trauma (Palestinians cannot speak of post-traumatic stress disorder) are also a common experience.
‘This war is larger than the 1948 Nakba. I am 91 years old,’ Mohammed Abdul Jabbar Abu Seif says. Aged fifteen, he experienced the first Zionist ethnic cleansing of Palestine and he notes the differences between the specific targeting of Zionist paramilitaries in 1948, and the widespread destruction of the current genocide in Gaza. One of the few remaining survivors of the Nakba, he narrates his experience of displacement in 1948 and how his family settled in Gaza in the Nuseirat camp. ‘My testament to my children and grandchildren is to never leave Gaza. We cannot leave Gaza, and we cannot migrate again,’ Abu Seif asserts, noting the miscalculation in 1948 of an eventual return and of leaving to save their lives.
Narrating the Israeli colonial aggressions he has experienced throughout his life, he describes the genocide as ‘a war of extermination and destruction of humans and nature.’ The description is far more tangible than the word genocide will ever be, particularly now that the international community has diluted its meaning to preserve Israel’s impunity. A destruction of humans and nature is something that anyone anywhere in the world can easily envisage. This narrative brings the consequences of destruction, as well as fear, to the reader’s mind.
The entirety of this anthology also serves to highlight what a vibrant society Palestinians in Gaza had created before the genocide. Education stands out in particular as one of their achievements. Indeed the tenacity to attempt to study and teach throughout the genocide is remarkable. Ambitions are currently stilted, but dreams are still cherished, An awareness of the many hurdles to overcome in order to create a healthy society post-genocide is also to the fore in many narratives in this collection. As the UNSC hands over the rebuilding of Gaza to the U.S. administration, thus prolonging the genocide, these testimonies will stand in opposition to the U.S.-Israeli narrative. More importantly, they are a sliver of testimony from Palestinians that neither the U.S. nor Israel, have the power to annihilate.
Around Ireland and in its online expressions, there is vocal and colourful support for the cause of Palestine. Its flag is draped from windows, hung from gate posts and serves as WhatsApp profile pictures. PLO scarves are again in vogue, while watermelon t-shirts are worn when the weather allows, and charitable fund-raisers on behalf of Gaza seem to have people cycling the length and breadth of the country. Members of Ireland’s small Jewish community have complained of anger being directed against them, unfairly, over the conduct of Israel. Pro-Palestinian advocates are, however, invariably, committed anti-racists: the kind of people who showed up for Black Lives Matter and Extinction Rebellion. It is not a Populist movement built on resentment against ‘an enemy within’ – an outlook characterising antisemitism of the past in Ireland and elsewhere – but an aspiration, however naively expressed, for a better world, and an identification which can be traced back to the Irish people’s historic experience of colonialism.
Solidarity with Palestine is identified with leading artistic figures such as the globally renowned author of Normal People Sally Rooney, who has declined to have her books translated into Hebrew. It is a cultural phenomenon as much as political agitation. Numerous musical acts – notably Northern Irish rap group Kneecap – have courted cancellation and even potential criminal prosecution in the U.K. for drawing attention to the cause. It is also, admittedly, a well-received form of protest, within Ireland at least, garnering social media likes and real-world approval. It does not risk the wrath of the community – as was the case with dissent from the Covid consensus – or police jackboots, as we see descending in other European countries, and the U.S..
Ireland’s octogenarian poet-President Michael D. O’Higgins has been an outspoken critic of Israel over the treatment of Gaza in particular. Despite occupying a largely ceremonial role, his stance has conferred legitimacy on expressions of rage on this issue. Referred to affectionately as ‘Michael D.’, his emphasis on human rights, social justice and the arts transcends ordinary politics, but a commitment to military neutrality – including in response to the War in Ukraine – has created tensions with the centre-right Irish government. This government under Micheál Martin as Taoiseach (Prime Minister) is also a vocal critic of Israel on the international stage, joining South Africa’s genocide case against Israel earlier this year. There is evident, nonetheless, among the Irish government an underlying anxiety to avoid a serious rupture with a significant trading partner, and especially that country’s sponsor the United States. Ireland remains, remarkably, Israel’s second biggest trading partner.
Members of the Irish government may well care about innocent Palestinian civilians caught in the crosshairs, and having famine inflicted on them. A more cynical, and arguably realistic, view would be that political expediency is paramount in the Irish government’s response.
A low corporation tax rate regime and other incentives over the past fifty years have attracted a raft of large U.S. companies, particularly from the tech, and pharmaceutical sectors, to Ireland, along with other investment of various kinds, predatory or otherwise. Donald Trump even owns a golf club, Doonbeg, in the west of Ireland. Since the Financial Crisis, Foreign Direct Investment has delivered consistently high economic growth and near full employment, but the attendant spiralling cost of housing, in particular, has eroded support for the parties in government. Recent decades have also witnessed unprecedented immigration into a state which, for most of its history, has been ethnically homogenous, save for the North, which remains part of the United Kingdom. There, sectarian tensions between Catholics and Protestants generated a bitter, low-intensity thirty-year conflict that ended after the Good Friday Agreement in 1998. Opposing factions adopted different sides in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – still evident in murals on buildings across the province – thereby conflating Irish Republicanism with the cause of Palestine.
U.S. companies in Ireland also have ties to Israel – notably Intel which employs almost five thousand in Ireland and approximately ten thousand in Israel. Importantly, Israel wields even greater clout in Washington than Ireland, despite an Irish diaspora in the U.S. of over thirty million dwarfing the five million Jewish-Americans – some of whom are leading critics of Israel.
Irish government politicians often characterise Irish sovereignty as severely circumscribed by dint of our being a ‘small, open economy,’ susceptible to global shocks. As a result, government politicians tend to bend over backwards on behalf of Irish-based U.S. companies. Thus, former Taoiseach Enda Kenny is alleged to have told Facebook executives in 2013 that he would use Ireland’s presidency of the E.U. to lobby member states over data privacy laws. Although we rarely hear of such exchanges, doubtless they occur. Ireland’s strained relations with Israel – which last year removed its Irish embassy describing Ireland as ‘the most extreme country against Israel internationally’ – is surely discussed, given major tech companies’ evident (as we will see) allegiance to Israel. Presumably Irish government officials stress their vulnerability on this issue to the left-wing opposition, especially Sinn Fein, which emerged as a serious threat to a long-standing political duopoly in the 2020 General Election.
Representatives of U.S. and other capital surely recognise that their interests are best served by the two parties of the centre-right – compelled to coalesce in the wake of the Financial Crash – retaining power. This probably explains the leeway given to the Irish government in criticising Israel on the global stage, including joining South Africa’s genocide case against Israel in January 2025. A red line would appear to be drawn, however, under any serious interruption of trade with Israel, including the transport of munitions to that country over Irish aerospace, or the use by the U.S. military of Shannon Airport as a stopover.
A looming threat to the status quo emerged prior to the 2024 General Election when, under pressure from the opposition, the government parties agreed to adopt an Occupied Territories Bill. This bill – a version of which was previously approved by the Dáil but never brought into law – purports to place an embargo on trade with the Occupied Territories. In its current form it will not, however, apply to services. If passed, it is unlikely to amount to anything more than a symbolic gesture. It is, nonetheless, causing disquiet in Washington.
It’s also notable that in January 2025 the Irish government adopted the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance’s (IHRA) non-legally binding working definition of antisemitism, which according to Israeli and international civil society organisations has been used ‘to muzzle legitimate speech and activism by critics of Israel’s human rights record and advocates for Palestinian rights’. This definition was used to undermine Jeremy Corbyn’s leadership of the Labour Party, and could have serious repercussions in the context of recent ‘hate speech’ legislation.
In recent times, Irish government policy tends to inform, or is perhaps informed by, the content and tone of legacy media. This includes the so-called ‘paper of record’ the Irish Times, which dominates the cultural space in a similar way to the New York Times in the U.S.. The government cannot, however, easily regulate what is being said on social media platforms. As the Israeli response unfolded after the October 7 attacks, Ireland’s canny neoliberal handlers would have observed the mounting fury being expressed, often by otherwise apolitical people, on platforms such as Instagram. This also became apparent in widely attended public protests. The Irish government’s faltering embrace of the cause of Palestine might be interpreted as a form of controlled opposition, wherein they stand as a placeholder for genuine supporters of Palestine. Such controlled opposition of a relatively malleable proxy (Ireland) may also, at times, act as a useful counterweight to the U.S. in its dealings with its Israeli ally.
A developing fracture within Irish nationalism associated with the advent of multiculturalism should also be noted. A nascent nativist movement departs from traditional Irish Republicanism, sympathetic to the cause of Palestine. The emergence of what is often simplistically labelled a ‘far right’ – mainly drawing support from deprived urban areas and others on the margins – is undoubtedly inspired by other Populist movements around the world. Such movements have tended to be anti-Muslim and pro-Israeli – an influential U.K. actor Tommy Robinson is an active supporter of Israel; albeit, recent criticism of the U.S.’s unwavering support for Israel from leading MAGA figures likely exerts an influence over Irish fellow travellers. Nevertheless, support for Palestine is certainly still evident in Dublin’s working class districts, where Palestinian flags are often unfurled.
‘our hearts and our anger, you know where that’s pointed’
A Shot Across the Bows
‘In the light of what’s happened in Israel and Gaza, a song about non-violence seems somewhat ridiculous, even laughable, but our prayers have always been for peace and for non-violence;’ so said Bono on October 8 at a concert in Los Vegas, before adding menacingly: ‘But our hearts and our anger, you know where that’s pointed … So sing with us… and those beautiful kids at that music festival,’ he continued, before launching into ‘Pride (In the Name of Love).’
Bono would subsequently receive a Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Biden. His apparent endorsement of Israel’s response to Hamas’s brutal (but far, far less impactful) attack on Israeli civilians formed part of a global propaganda wave providing cover for Israel’s actions. In the wake of October 7, dissent from the somewhat disingenuous proposition that ‘Israeli had a right to defend itself’ became almost impossible for anyone in a position of influence, including in Ireland. This became a carte blanche to attack Gaza, and elsewhere, amidst disinformation and exaggeration.
On October 13, the founder of Web Summit, Paddy Cosgrave, one of Ireland’s leading businessmen and a prominent critic of the Irish government, wrote on Twitter/X: ‘War crimes are war crimes, even when committed by allies,’ referring to Israel’s airstrikes and blockade of the Gaza Strip, which the U.N. had warned could lead to mass starvation of the 2.3 million people living there. Cosgrave followed up with a message condemning the Hamas attack. In response to criticism from leading technology figures and investors, he posted a statement on the Web Summit blog apologizing and clarifying his position. ‘I unreservedly condemn Hamas’ evil, disgusting and monstrous October 7 attack. I also call for the unconditional release of all hostages,’ he wrote. ‘I unequivocally support Israel’s right to exist and to defend itself … I also believe that, in defending itself, Israel should adhere to international law and the Geneva Conventions — i..e, not commit war crimes.’
The apology was insufficient to sway major sponsors and headliners who announced they would boycott the Web Summit event. These included tech heavyweights Meta, Google, Intel, Siemens and Amazon, all with Irish operations. ‘Unfortunately, my personal comments have become a distraction from the event, and our team, our sponsors, our start-ups and the people who attend,’ Cosgrave said in a resignation statement; ‘I sincerely apologise again for any hurt I have caused.’ Cosgrave’s maverick opposition could not be controlled, unlike, arguably, the Irish government. Nor did Cosgrave have friends within the Irish political establishment to plead his case. His immediate resignation probably saved his company, and he would return as CEO six months later.
In the wake of October 7, the Irish government seemed prepared to be going along with the U.S. position and that of the E.U., under Ursula von der Leyen, which projected an image of the Israeli flag over European buildings in solidarity. Tánaiste (deputy-prime minister) and Minister for Foreign Affairs, currently Taoiseach, Micheál Martin visited Israel the following month. In response to a request from Alon Davidi, the mayor of Sderot a town near the border with Gaza, to support Israel Martin responded: ‘I’m here to see this firsthand and to listen; to seek to understand the trauma that your community has gone through and not just in horrific events over the seventh but as you said for over two decades, if not three decades, in terms of rockets.’
He then set out the Irish government’s position: ‘Ireland is unequivocal in its condemnation of the Hamas attack and will give no quarter to that form of terrorism. We are explicit in our public statements in condemning without condition the unconscionable attacks on children, on women and on innocent civilians.’ Martin added that Ireland’s long-standing support for a two-state solution should not be equated with support for Hamas and ‘absolutely’ affirmed Israel’s right to exist – ‘in case that is in question.’ He noted that Irish-Israeli citizen Kim Damti had been murdered by Hamas and Emily Hand taken hostage in Gaza. Martin said he did not believe that a military solution would create a safe environment for future generations: ‘We may have to disagree on that – and I respect where you’re coming from – but our sense is that there’s a real danger that you will radicalise opinion of future generations even more.’
Martin’s approach was calculated, recognizing historic Irish support for the Palestinian cause, while making sure to be seen to be on Israel’s side. In response, left-wing opponents described it as a propaganda tour. Since then, Martin has been a prominent critic of Israel on the international stage, somehow reconciling this with his government permitting munitions to pass through Irish aerospace, and for Israel to remain a major trading partner.
Martin appears to have another, more important, agenda, which would, in all likelihood, be supported by U.S. interests in Ireland. In the wake of the Russia-Ukraine war he sought to align Ireland more closely with the rest of the West, seemingly endeavouring to abandon a policy of neutrality that emerged during World War II and which continued over the course the Cold War, when Ireland remained outside NATO. Despite consistent opposition among the population to any change, Martin’s government has pushed forward with proposals to end the so-called Triple Lock, requiring the approval of the U.N. Security Council, a decision by Government and a vote in the Dáil (the legislative assembly) before Ireland commits a substantial number of troops to peace-keeping operations.
White House Criticism
In 2000, a prominent government Minister is believed to have described Ireland as being closer to Boston than Berlin. In some respects, this remains the case. Government services are generally poorly resourced relative to other European countries, while apartment-living is uncommon and the private motor car is generally relied on ahead of public transport. On the issue of Palestine, however, unlike the U.S., the Irish population has been relatively consistent in its opposition to Israeli incursions, and supportive of a two-state solution, however remote, and indeed unsatisfactory, this outcome now appears.
There are, however, a few political outliers on this issue, one of whom seemed to be former Taoiseach Leo Varadkar. Back in 2017, hawk-eyed Irish activists observed the then Taoiseach’s online interaction with Barry Williams, who they considered Ireland’s most ardent supporter of Israel and ran the group Irish4Israel. Then, in 2019 Varadkar replied to a letter from ten members of the U.S. Congress by noting his opposition to an Occupied Territories Bill ‘on both political and legal grounds.’
Furthermore, in early 2024 speaking once again as Taoiseach, Varadkar expressed caution about accusing Israel of genocide based on the spurious consideration that millions of Jewish people were victims of it in the past. He said the government wouldn’t use the term unless it was ‘absolutely convinced’ that genocide was occurring. Responding to the question of whether Ireland would join South Africa’s case against Israel at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) about the Israeli state’s treatment of people in Gaza he said: ‘I would be a little bit uncomfortable about accusing Israel, a Jewish state, of Genocide given the fact that six million Jews – over half the population of Jews in Europe – were killed.’ Adding, ‘I would just think we need to be a little bit careful about using words like that unless we’re absolutely convinced that they’re the appropriate ones.’
The dial seemed to have moved considerably, however, by the time of Varadkar’s last major public appearance as Taoiseach in the White House on St. Patrick’s Day on March 17, 2024. This occurred just days before he announced his surprise resignation, after his government suffered damaging defeats in two referendums on references to family and women in the constitution. In a speech that was well-received in Ireland, and which seemed unusually provocative given where it took place, Varadkar said:
Mr President, as you know, the Irish people are deeply troubled about the catastrophe that’s unfolding before our eyes in Gaza. When I travel the world, leaders often ask me why the Irish have so much empathy for the Palestinian people. The answer is simple: we see our history in their eyes. A story of displacement and dispossession, a national identity questioned and denied, forced emigration, discrimination, and now – hunger.
Adding:
The people of Gaza desperately need food, medicine and shelter. Most especially they need the bombs to stop. This has to stop. On both sides. The hostages brought home. And humanitarian relief allowed in.
A looming General Election perhaps explained the unusual force of the criticism. Indeed, the issue of Palestine did not become a significant electoral issue once the ruling parties agreed to introduce their own Occupied Territories Bill. Perhaps the U.S. Democratic leadership, with close ties to the Irish political establishment, recognised the political ramifications of his speech and even green-lighted his words. External criticism, moreover, might have been useful for the Biden administration in its own dealing with the Israelis, given student protests then occurring across the U.S., and their own unpreparedness to criticise Israel with the Republicans emphasising unwavering support. Meanwhile, Varadkar could sail into the political sunset with the approval of Ireland’s many Palestinian activists ringing in his ears, and in a good position to take up future political roles.
President Donald Trump with Taoiseach Micheál Martin.
St. Patrick’s Day 2025
The issue of Palestine did not figure prominently before Taoiseach Micheál Martin’s visit to the Trump White House in 2025. The concern at that time was over the new President’s tariffs wreaking havoc on the Irish economy, by forcing U.S. firms to transfer their operations to the U.S..
At one point, however, a reporter inquired of Martin whether he planned to discuss Trump’s previous plans to expel Palestinians from Gaza. At this, Trump jumped in, responding with a denial. ‘Nobody’s expelling any Palestinians,’ he replied. Palestinians were again brought up by Trump as he reminisced about his recent speech to a joint session of Congress. The term ‘Palestinian’ was used in a bizarre fashion to insult his rivals in the Democratic Party. He described Chuck Schumer, the Senate Minority Leader as a Palestinian: ‘as far as I’m concerned. You know, he’s become a Palestinian. He used to be Jewish. He’s not Jewish anymore: He’s a Palestinian.’
Martin, nonetheless, in contrast to Varadkar’s outspoken comments the previous year, lauded Trump for his approach to securing a peace agreement. After Trump was asked about the St Patrick’s Day boycott, the Taoiseach interjected ‘to pay tribute to the president on the peace initiatives’ in Gaza and elsewhere. It’s clear from these exchanges that Martin and his advisors were unwilling to risk any loss of influence for the sake of Palestine. Perhaps Trump also recognised that those in power in Ireland were prepared to serve U.S. interests and were, in effect, “controlling” popular Irish solidarity with Palestine.
President Michael D. Higgins.
A Looming Presidential Election
In a recent opinion piece for Ireland’s so-called ‘paper of record’, the Irish Times, regular columnist Finn McRedmond (incidentally as a student in Cambridge she wrote an article revealing how she had voted for David Cameron’s Conservatives in 2015) wrote:
Irish foreign policy is in a strange place right now. We are, as has long been the case, totally impotent on matters of global politics – with no real army to speak of, outside of Nato, militaristically neutral and never even close the so-called grown-ups table when the future of Europe is at stake. (Did that invite to the White House with Friedrich Merz, Giorgia Meloni, Keir Starmer, Emmanuel Macron and Mark Rutte get lost in the post?)
But simultaneously, there are plenty of members of the Irish establishment who – in full cognisance of this basic reality – believe that the world is somehow willing to listen to Ireland’s lectures on affairs of international morality.
The main object of McRedmond’s ire was, unsurprisingly, President Michael D. Higgins. She complained bitterly that he had bent ‘the shape and contours of the office [the Presidency] to his whims, professing to the world on behalf of the nation as though he speaks for us all.’ O’Higgins’ fourteen-year tenure comes to an end later this year, and McRedmond expressed concern that another left-wing candidate Catherine Connolly– the natural heir to Michael D. Higgins – could win the election this November. McRedmond professed herself:
anxious to learn that Catherine Connolly is a contender of relative significance. She has recently said Irish people should resist a “trend towards imperialism” in the European Union, as the bloc is becoming “increasingly militarised under the leadership of Ursula von der Leyen and the European People’s Party”; that the EU has “lost its moral compass”; and that “the US, England and France are deeply entrenched in an arms industry which causes bloodshed across the world.
McRedmond’s own rise to prominence as a regular columnist for the Irish Times might be traced to an influential father’s acting as CEO to a commercial body – An Post the postal service – owned by the state, and political views inspired more by her time in Peterhouse College, Cambridge than the Falls Road in West Belfast.
Her piece articulates an anxiety within the Irish establishment, a section of which she castigates, that a figure similar in her outlook to Michael D. could win the presidency. While overcoming most Irish people’s reluctance to abandon neutrality – another Irish Times columnist recently described it as ‘absurd and complacent’ – and even joining NATO, appears to be the primary objective, popular Irish opposition to Isreal and attention to Gaza remains a serious inconvenience. Apart from placing the Irish government in a difficult position vis-à-vis U.S. investors, unwavering U.S., E.U. and U.K. support of Israel undermines the West’s claim to moral leadership in supporting Ukraine against Russia. Most Irish supporters of Palestine are now opposed to Ireland entering any military alliance – and are increasingly hesitant about a militaristic E.U. – in any way supportive of Israel.
Under the Irish Constitution, the President occupies a largely ceremonial position, similar to that of the monarch in the U.K.. Despite a lack of executive or legislative function, an individual, such as Michael D. Higgins – and Mary Robinson before him – may still use the platform to bring about cultural change, and legitimate outrage. Thus, what are controversial positions on Israel elsewhere in Europe and the U.S. have become the norm in Ireland. This makes it politically expedient for government politicians to represent these viewpoints. If a less radical candidate wins the forthcoming election, as seems more than likely, the heat could be taken out of criticism of Israel in Ireland. Indeed, it is possible the change to the definition of antisemitism could, in time, lead to criminal prosecutions for ‘hate speech’ under new laws, supposedly designed to counter racism.
The plight of Palestinians living under Israeli occupation may seem remote from an Irish Presidential election that is likely to see a turnout below fifty percent, but Ireland’s popular support for Palestine could easily be blunted in the absence of a legitimating figure in that office. This could have the effect of altering the tone, and content, of Palestine’s most consistent advocate in Europe on the international stage. The Irish government’s adoption of the IHRA’s definition of antisemitism, continued permission for Irish aerospace to be used for transporting munitions, and ongoing trading ties between the two countries, do not point to genuine conviction on the part of the Irish government on this issue.
Members of the Irish government are given to portraying the country as fragile and dependent, but this ignores the significant ‘soft power’ at its disposal. It is, by most measures, an extremely wealthy country, with an enormous government surplus, and commercial banks in a far better state than before the Crash. Moreover, the country’s geographic position on the edge of Europe insulates it from Europe’s historic zones of conflict, including the current one in Ukraine. Contrary to media scaremongering, Russia has no designs on Ireland. There is also a vast Irish diaspora around the world to call on, particularly in the U.S.. Donald Trump even referred to the importance of this constituency in the aforementioned White House meeting with Martin. It explains why any Irish Taoiseach is warmly welcomed on St. Patrick’s Day, no matter which President occupies the White House. Ireland’s outspoken opposition to Israel will, however, be easier to control if a less steadfast individual wins the forthcoming Presidential election.
A week after U.S. Democrat Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib wrote to the Department of Homeland Security and the Department of Defence demanding a halt to the use of Guantanamo as a detention facility, CBS obtained internal government records exposing the Trump administration’s accelerating transfer of detainees. Departing from the earlier policy of only holding migrants from South America pending deportation, the U.S. is now also detaining migrants from Africa, Asia and Europe at Guantanamo.
This confirms earlier speculations in June that the U.S. would be expanding Guantanamo facility to detain thousands of migrants.
In response legal efforts have intensified to stop the U.S. government from sending detained migrants to Guantanamo. It has been argued that ‘the government has never before used a detention facility outside of the United States to detain noncitizens for immigration purposes.’ The issue of the U.S. illegal occupation of Guantanamo is not only marginalised, but silenced. Yet, it is the historical U.S. aggression against Cuba that provides the foundations for Guantanamo’s notoriety.
What Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth described as ‘the frontlines of the war against America’s southern border,’ has been U.S.-occupied territory in Cuba since 1903.
U.S. Occupation
U.S. intervention in Cuba’s War of Independence against Spain was the first step in denying the people their political autonomy. The Treaty of Paris (1898) forced Spain to relinquish Cuba and supposedly guaranteed the island’s independence. The Platt Amendment (1901), however, established eight conditions restricted Cuban independence, while giving the U.S. the right to intervene in its affairs, ostensibly to defend Cuban independence. The Platt Amendment’s eight clauses were included in a permanent treaty between both countries that was signed in 1903.
Notably, Article 1 of the Platt Amendment states, ‘The Government of Cuba shall never enter into any treaty or other compact with any foreign power or powers which will impair or tend to impair the independence of Cuba, nor in any manner authorize or permit any foreign power of powers to obtain by colonization or for military or naval purposes, or otherwise, lodgment in or control over any portion of said island.’
The U.S., however, excluded itself from the stipulations in Article I. Article IV states ‘All acts of the United States in Cuba during its military occupancy thereof are ratified and validated, and all lawful rights acquired thereunder shall be maintained and protected.’
Writing to U.S. President Theodore Roosevelt in 1901, U.S. Chief of Staff Leonard Wood said: ‘Of course, Cuba has been left with little or no independence by the Platt Amendment… The island will gradually become Americanised, and in due time we shall have one of the richest and most desirable possessions anywhere in the world.’
The Platt Amendment also required Cuba to sell or lease lands for coaling or naval stations, under the guise of enabling the U.S. to maintain Cuban independence.
In February 1903, the U.S. and Cuba signed an agreement for the lease of Guantanamo, supposedly for the sole use ‘as coaling and naval stations only, and for no other purpose.’ The agreement gave the U.S. complete jurisdiction over the stipulated areas. The lease for Guantanamo was set at $2,000 to be paid annually in gold. In 1934, the Treaty of Reciprocity replaced the Platt Amendment and the 1903 Permanent Treaty, except for clauses relating to Guantanamo. The Treaty of Reciprocity explicitly stated that until the U.S. decides to abandon Guantanamo, or both countries reach an agreement, the U.S. ‘shall continue to have the territorial extent which it now occupies.’ By 1952, Guantanamo’s naval station had expanded to include a training centre, besides a naval station, naval air station, and a Marine Corps and warehouse base.
Fidel Castro on a visit to Washington.
U.S. Imperialist Aggression
Cuban revolutionary leader Fidel Castro and the July 26 Movement overthrew the U.S.-backed dictator Fulgencio Batista on January 1,1959. On March 5, 1959, Fidel demanded that the U.S. relinquishe its occupation of Guantanamo. In protest against the U.S. illegal occupation of Cuban territory, the Cuban revolutionary government stopped cashing the lease cheques after 1960. In that same year, the U.S. severed diplomatic relations with Cuba.
A 1962 declassified memorandum states that if Cuba had to ‘denounce and repudiate’ the agreements upon which the U.S. holds the Guantanamo base, the U.S. ‘would be justified in resisting with force,’ given that no termination date was agreed upon.
By that time, the U.S. had already attempted to overthrow Fidel Castro. In 1961, the U.S. authorised the Bay of Pigs Invasion – a counterrevolutionary attack planned during the Eisenhower administration and caried out under President J. F. Kennedy – in which a group of Cuban exiles trained by the C.I.A. attempted to infiltrate Cuba. They were defeated by the Cuban revolutionary forces within seventy-two hours. The defeat prompted Kennedy to launch the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) and in 1962, and the U.S. imposed its long-standing blockade on Cuba.
Between 1961 and 1962, Cuba recorded at least three attacks by U.S. soldiers against Cuban civilians in Guantanamo. Manuel Prieto Gomez was interrogated and physically tortured at the military base for allegedly stealing documents relating to the naval base pay roll. Gomez, who named Rear Admiral F. W. Fenno as his interrogator and torturer, said he was targeted for openly supporting Fidel Castro. Ruben Lopez Sabariego, who also supported the revolution and who worked at the base, was detained and murdered. His body was buried in a shallow grave at the naval base. Rodolfo Rosell Salas, a Cuban fisherman, was found dead in his boat in Guantanamo territory, his body showing signs of severe torture.
These first three murders were followed by other instances of U.S. forces killing Cubans in Guantanamo. In 1976, the Cuban constitution declared the earlier treaties regarding Guantanamo null and illegal, since they were signed under unequal conditions that diminished Cuba’s sovereignty and territorial integrity.
The U.S. also used Guantanamo as a training base for foreign intervention in South America. In 1979, President Jimmy Carter announced the U.S. would conduct military manoeuvres in Guantanamo, reported in the press in 1980 as Operation Solid Shield 80, which included the transportation of an additional 1,200 U.S. Marines. Further plans and drills for military intervention in South America took place in 1982 under Operation Ocean Venture 82, which included a simulation of invading Puerto Rico. Two years later, the Pentagon sent a report to Congress, detailing a plan to spend $43.4 million to improve Guantanamo, as well as upgrading military installations in South America by 1988. In 1987, the U.S. announced Operation Solid Shield 87, which consisted of a practice response to a hypothetical assistance call from Honduras in case of an invasion from Nicaragua – as well as a response to a Cuban reaction in case of such a scenario.
Protesters at Ft. Huachuca against the US policy of endorsing torture.
Violations of international Law
Besides the aggression against Cuba, the U.S. began using Guantanamo as a detention facility in the 1970s, when it intercepted boats carrying Haitians. Those on board were sent to Guantanamo for detention and processing. The situation was repeated in 1991, when the U.S. backed the Haitian Army to overthrow the democratically-elected president Jean-Bertrand Aristide.
Using Guantanamo as a detention base rested on the ambiguous conditions under which the territory was leased. The U.S. retained jurisdiction over Guantanamo while Cuba retained sovereignty. The U.S. government hasargued, however, that U.S. courts do not have jurisdiction over Guantanamo since it does not hold sovereignty over the territory.
Since the onset of the so-called War on Terror, Cuban territory has been exploited by the U.S., which committed atrocious acts of torture. These were linked to further violations of international law such as the extraordinary rendition of alleged terror suspects, which made Guantanamo a black site for C.I.A. enhanced interrogation techniques.
Several European countries participated in the C.I.A.’s extraordinary rendition flights. Austria, Italy, Poland, Portugal and the U.K. refused to cooperate during investigations carried out by rapporteur Giovanni Fava. The report states that the C.I.A. operated 1,245 flights within European airspace to U.S. bases in Europe, some of which were linked to extraordinary rendition and also to Guantanamo.
While President G. W. Bush publicly defended Guantanamo’s use in the C.I.A.’s extraordinary rendition program in 2010, Barack Obama had announced his intention to close the detention facility within a year – a statement he reneged upon four months after suspending the trials.
Cuban Foreign Minister Bruno Rodriguez has regularly criticised U.S. intervention in Cuba, includingthe use of Guantanamo as a detention and torture site. It only gains symbolic political momentum, however, when it comes to the illegal U.S. blockade against Cuba. Regarding Guantanamo and the Western front against migration, Cuba’s right to reclaim its territory is overshadowed by both well-meaning and ill-intentioned policies. Human rights organisations are calling for the detention facilities to be closed, but ending the U.S. illegal occupation of Guantanamo is central to closing the detention facilities, an occupation which Cuba has denounced since the revolution.
As Fidel Castro wrote, ‘The U.S. base at Guantanamo was necessary in order to humiliate and to carry out the dirty deeds that take place there. If we must await the downfall of the system, we will wait … Cuba will always be waiting in a state of combat readiness.’
Feature Image: A tent facility at a disused NSGB air terminal used to hold Haitian migrants
The following is a Q and A between Luke Sheehan and Deniz Güngör.
Can you summarize the political crisis in Turkey?
First, I must say that in Turkey, a person must have a university diploma to be eligible to run for president. After the main opposition CHP’s Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu announced his presidential candidacy, judicial operations were launched. First, İmamoğlu’s diploma was annulled, then he was detained on March 19 and subsequently arrested. Following this, a series of protest demonstrations were organized in Saraçhane, where the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality building is located.
What is happening in Istanbul? What is the atmosphere like now?
The protests ended due to the interjection of the Ramadan holiday. However, it is safe to say that all these developments have awakened the social opposition. Turkey had not witnessed such large-scale, nearly nationwide protests since the 2013 Gezi Park resistance. Even though the protests have ended, the smallest decision from the government drives the opposition back to the streets.
Recount the key moments of the last few months in your own experience?
One of the most critical moments of the last few months was the police violence during the Saraçhane protests on March 23. After a rally organized by the CHP in Saraçhane, the police attacked demonstrators and journalists near the Bozdoğan Aqueduct with pepper spray, plastic bullets, and batons. (The reason the protesters tried to push through the police stationed at the Bozdoğan Aqueduct was that they wanted to march to Taksim Square. The government has been banning all protests at Taksim Square since the Gezi Park resistance due to fear of its symbolic significance.) Many people were injured, including me. A police officer sprayed pepper gas directly into my face and kicked me in the stomach. Since that day, 301 university students and young people have been arrested and sent to prison. Most of them have now been released, but some are still imprisoned despite serious health issues. Calls for their release continue on social media.
How would you recount İmamoğlu’s path in politics? How did he come to represent a threat to Erdoğan?
Before becoming the mayor of Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality, İmamoğlu was the mayor of the Beylikdüzü district in Istanbul. He was hardly known before becoming the metropolitan mayor. Until the 2019 elections, Istanbul was governed by Erdoğan’s party, the AKP. Erdoğan once said, “Whoever wins Istanbul, wins Turkey.” For this reason, Istanbul holds great significance for them. When İmamoğlu narrowly defeated the AKP’s candidate Binali Yıldırım in 2019, he first caught Erdoğan’s attention. The election was annulled, and İmamoğlu was subjected to many provocations. However, in the re-run election in June 2019, İmamoğlu was elected mayor by a landslide. After CHP took over Istanbul, corruption under the AKP administration was exposed. Religious cults embedded within the municipality were removed, and a policy of social municipalism was adopted. Projects like municipal daycare centers and public canteens (designed to support the people suffering under the economic crisis) were developed. Despite all the AKP propaganda, İmamoğlu was re-elected in the 2024 local elections.
Since 2019, a large portion of society has expressed the desire to see İmamoğlu as president. This made him a target for Erdoğan. The AKP regime is terrified of losing power, especially since people still demand answers about the $128 billion that went missing from the Central Bank. If the AKP loses power, they know it won’t end well for them.
Compared to previous flare ups and crises [Gezi Park protests 2013], what is different about these events? Apart from factual differences, how does it feel different?
The Gezi Park resistance began as a movement to protect Gezi Park, and the police violence and deaths deepened it. But Saraçhane is a direct response to political maneuvers, increasing repression, arrests, and is directly against Erdoğan. It still is. The protests found expression in universities through academic boycotts, and people from all walks of life took to the streets. The Saraçhane protests were a stand against Erdoğan and his Islamist, authoritarian policies.
How is journalism functioning in this environment?
The police try to prevent journalists from recording as much as possible. Their goal is to keep the torture they inflict from being documented. Often, journalists are detained together with protesters, surrounded by police.
Your colleagues were detained in February, can you describe what happened? Was that business as usual for journalists in Turkey?
Every month in Turkey, journalists are detained or prosecuted for the news they report or for their social media posts. This has become one of the regime’s mechanisms of repression and has sadly become normalized. It’s now rare to find a journalist who doesn’t have at least one lawsuit filed against them. In February, detentions were carried out after BirGün reported on a visit by Sabah newspaper to Istanbul’s Chief Public Prosecutor, Akın Gürlek, in his office. Sabah had also reported on the same visit.
Uğur Koç, Berkant Gültekin, and Yaşar Gökdemir were taken to Istanbul Police Headquarters in Vatan in the evening to give statements and were initially denied access to their lawyers. None of the three were summoned; they were directly taken from their homes. After their statements at the police station were completed around noon, they were referred to the Istanbul Courthouse in Çağlayan. Berkant Gültekin was released after giving his statement to the prosecutor. Uğur Koç and Yaşar Gökdemir were also released by the court with judicial control measures. All they did was report a visit already published by Sabah.
How is the violence being applied in the response to protest? Is it different to the past?
Unfortunately, tactics like reverse handcuffing and pepper spray have become normalized forms of police brutality in Turkish protests.
Can you single out a story of an ordinary family and how they have been affected?
On April 8, university student Esila Ayık was arrested in Istanbul’s Kadıköy district for holding a sign that read “Dictator Erdoğan” at the Kadıköy Dayanışma Stage, accused of “insulting the president.” Ayık suffers from chronic heart and kidney disease. She has collapsed in prison and been hospitalized multiple times. Despite all these health problems, she has not been released. Her father repeatedly pleads, “Please release my daughter,” but Esila remains imprisoned.
Do the pro-Imamoglu people feel a connection to any citizens elsewhere locked in some kind of struggle?
Honestly, I don’t think so. People in Turkey see the struggle here as unique and particular to their own circumstances.
You are 25. You have lived almost your whole life under the government of one leader. What does that feel like for your generation? Do you feel like Turkey can be called a democracy?
Unfortunately, I have lived my entire life under the Erdoğan regime. From the moment he came to power, he embraced an Islamist political identity and had ties with the Gülen movement. However, after the 2016 coup attempt, he pretended those ties never existed and started accusing dissidents of being linked to FETÖ (Fetullahist Terrorist Organization). After the state of emergency was declared in 2016, repression increased, freedoms were restricted, and the economic crisis deepened. I believe this has especially impacted my generation and the ones after me. The generation before us wasn’t afraid to take to the streets to demand their rights. But until the Saraçhane protests, people were silenced by fear — “What if I get arrested, detained, what if I can’t find a job in the future?” Even something as simple as going to the cinema has become unaffordable for young people. Going out for a drink or to the theater has become a luxury. Most of us are unemployed university graduates. People no longer trust the election results, nor the judiciary. So no, as long as Erdoğan’s regime continues, it is not possible to talk about democracy in Turkey.
If you could summarize the current situation with a metaphor, what would it be?
The wall of fear the dictator built over 23 years had already cracked — now it’s crumbling.
Deniz Güngör graduated in 2023 from the Department of Journalism at the Faculty of Communication Sciences, Anadolu University in Eskişehir Turkey. Since 2021, Deniz has been working at BirGün Newspaper. She was awarded in the 65th Turkey Journalism Achievement Awards organized by the Turkish Journalists’ Association (TGC) for her interview “The Hope We Carry Is Our Reason to Live”, and again in the 66th TGC Awards for her news report titled “Unauthorized Surgery at a Private Hospital: They Lied to the Judiciary”.
