INTERVIEWS ON THE LAWSUIT AGAINST 9TH BOĞAZİÇİ PRIDE #2
“I don’t feel safe”
The final hearing of the case against 69 people, who were detained and tortured for participating in the Pride march at Boğaziçi University on 20 May 2022, known as the ‘Boğaziçi Pride Case,’ will be held on the 25th of October at Istanbul Justice Palace.
At the 5th of April hearing, the prosecutor requested that 69 students be sentenced for “taking part in an illegal march and failing to disperse despite being warned,” and two students for “resisting in order to prevent the officers from performing their duty.”
We have been following the case of the students detained for gathering at the Pride march at Boğaziçi University since the first hearing. In order to understand their perspectives on the case, we interviewed three students. In the first of those interviews, our guest is Yaren. Yaren graduated from Boğaziçi University, Department of Sociology. During her university years, she actively participated in the LGBTQ+ Club (BÜLGBTİA+). She is also still active in some rights-based non-governmental organizations.
This was the 9th Pride March held at Boğaziçi University. Could you tell us a bit about your participation in the previous marches?
Two years ago, during the 7th Pride March, we had a hard time because it coincided with COVID [pandemic]. Despite the closure of the LGBT+ club [BÜLGBTİA+] during the time of the first trustee rector Melih Bulu, we managed to carry it out. And, honestly, it wasn’t a bad experience. We didn’t face any physical violence.
Has the presence of an LGBT+ club at Boğaziçi impacted your life?
Of course, it did! Just imagine, you’ve come from a small town where there was no space for you to express yourself. You are also stuck living with your family so you cannot create a space to express yourself either. I remember during the university selection process, I thought, “I’ll go to Boğaziçi, I’ll meet fellow queers there. It’s going to be amazing!” That was my mindset when I chose Boğaziçi. From the moment I first set foot on campus, until the last, I always felt like I belonged there.
Did the closure of the club and the police’s attack on the Pride March affect your thoughts on Boğaziçi?
Before the club was shut down, we were very visible and open about our identities. But after a certain point, that started to change. We began to fear to be ourselves and be open on campus. So, that affected how we expressed our gender identity and/or sexual orientation. For example, we couldn’t book rooms under our club’s name anymore. We had to rely on other clubs to reserve rooms for our events. Eventually, we couldn’t hold events at all. It wasn’t just our visibility; the sense of security and belonging diminished too. After a while, we started holding meetings outside of campus, and that definitely changed our feeling of belonging to the university.
Could you tell us a bit about the day of the march?
Until the day of the march, we had held emergency meetings where we discussed things like, “Will the security show up? If they do, what will we do? Will the police come?” We considered all sorts of scenarios because we anticipated an attack on the march. We prepared ourselves for it.
I remember thinking beforehand, “Assuming we get attacked by the police, I have two options: I either don’t go at all, or I go and risk being detained.” I was in an existential crisis, thinking, “If I don’t go, what’s the point of being part of an LGBT+ activist group?” Not going would’ve made me feel like a hypocrite. So, I went.
And what we expected happened. Riot squad were waiting at the gates. Security came over and told us we couldn’t march. We said, “No, we will march!” We walked a little before we were surrounded and detained.
On the detention, one of the lawyers came over and told me that we were trending on social media. Hearing that really lifted my spirits at that moment.
How did the detention experience affect you? Looking back, what do you think?
I’m happy to be open about my identity. I don’t regret it at all. But I remember thinking, “My friends are outside, I’m being detained. Some people are out having fun on campus, and no one even cares.” I was in shock, and it took me days to shake it off.
It got even worse when the case was filed. The fact that the court summons would be sent to my family’s home really shook me. I was afraid my relationship with my family would be damaged.
Until the court date, I went through a lot of psychological distress. None of us can say, “It didn’t affect me.” Of course, it affected us. How could it not? Think about it: You’re in a cramped bus for nine hours, unable to eat or drink.
The day of the trial was a bit different because we had our lawyers with us, and we were all together. Even though I was standing before the judge as a ‘criminal,’ I felt free. I was defending that the march was legal and a right of ours. But, of course, we all felt worn out by the time we got to that point.
So, would you say both the detention and the lawsuit were part of an intimidation strategy?
Absolutely! If they had just detained us but not filed a lawsuit, we could’ve said, “They only wanted to scare us for a day.” But the lawsuit showed that, “No, this isn’t just a one-day thing!” It’s something that will always linger in the back of our minds. We will always know that there’s a case against us, and we will constantly face its unwanted consequences in our lives—whether in our relationships with our families or our financial independence. That’s what this means.
We’ve completed the second year of the case, and now we’re entering the third. This case has been part of all our lives for three years now. It may not be an active part of our daily lives anymore, but as someone living abroad, every time I come back to Turkey, I wonder, “Will they cause trouble for me at passport control?” The state that initiated this case can’t provide me with any guarantee of safe passage. In fact, they could easily detain me again at any moment.
I don’t feel safe. By dragging this out for three years, they’re ensuring that fear and repression stretches over the years. They want to make sure we never participate in another protest again.
You mentioned that the process affected you negatively but that you’ve gradually gotten past it. Is there a reason for this change? Was there something that helped you cope with it?
I think there are two reasons. First, as students, we really held onto each other. It was important to know that the queers were always by my side. The second reason is that I don’t live in Turkey anymore. If I were still there, maybe it would have affected my life much more. Let’s say I started my master’s in Turkey, if I had wanted to become a research assistant at a university, this case could’ve prevented that. Now I’m in a place where I’m more free economically and where queers can live more freely, so I’m less anxious. Being physically distant has definitely contributed to that.
Did this process influence your decision to move abroad?
I would’ve left even if this hadn’t happened, but after going through it, I ran to the opportunity. Before, I wasn’t planning to leave so eagerly because all my friends and family are in Turkey.
Of course, after this incident I thought, “Well, I was going to go for my education anyway. At least I can live comfortably for a year or two.”
Lastly, do you have any thoughts or expectations about the outcome of the case?
My only expectation from the case is for it to end with an acquittal.