The July 16 Effect
I understand that a coup attempt is no trivial matter, but as with any problem, how one reacts is key.
Thoughts on the coup attempt
It’s after one o’clock in the morning and there are reports of shots being fired in different parts of the city. The coup reactions have filtered down to the people and people are moving through the stages of grief, to anger. Erdoğan told everyone to not accept what is going on right now and get on the street.
We are sitting in utter disbelief (UPDATE: the parliament building is damaged). The newsman asked Erdoğan if he is still the head of the armed forces, but its clear that he is panicking about what is going on. He is trying to remain strong but it seems like he doesn’t know what is happening. If it’s acting, it’s pretty good. TV is showing shots of people on the streets marching, for the time being it’s peaceful, and no one seems to be hurt. It’s important not to panic.
You realize how quickly you yourself can get swept up in the hysteria. People are making runs on banks. We get a call from a friend who says there is a huge line at the Garanti ATM. She’s always a bit hysterical, you try to convince yourself. Abdullah Gul is on Factime, he is shouting, clearly in Freak Out Mode, but he isn’t saying anything about how scared it is. He is saying Turkey isn’t Africa! Turkey is Africa right now. Turkey is every unstable country. Stability can be only skin deep here. A bubble.
My wife is telling everyone to take a shower and go to sleep; hopefully everything will be OK tomorrow. For those who lived through the 1980 coup, this is like a bad nightmare, the clown from Stephen King’s It, coming back to torment the people. Erdoğan said everyone on your feet. How could the military not have thought about what kind of reaction this would bring? How could Facetime be so powerful? Do we forget that it’s a two way street? The good guys and the bad guys can use video chatting?
It’s after 1 am. The call to prayer is being read. That’s a bad sign, a really scary sign. A little Iranian flavor. The ezan is going off again. More than a half hour continuously, calling people to the streets.
It’s the next morning at around 9 AM the day after. We look out the window. The garbage truck is making rounds. We walk to the hypermarket and buy some groceries for breakfast. The store manager says yeah, everyone was uncomfortable last night; we don’t want people to be uncomfortable. Other than that, people are working, construction on the new apartment building, like thousands being built all the time, resumes.
The fact is, the vast majority of people do not want this, nor do world leaders. As bad as Erdoğan is, with unconstitutional reforms, restriction of the press, disregard for other perspectives, closed mindedness. As bad as it is to have imams calling people out on the streets to support Islam/Erdoğan etc. — and this IS scarier than a military coup — a coup is not what the vast majority of people want. We need to face this.
But why? If he were so popular, why would he stage this bold and deadly play? Perhaps Erdoğan want early elections to hasten the process of direct presidential elections, because the opening the conflict with the PKK hasn’t hastened this enough. What I found most strange is how the so-called fringe faction of military perpetrating this could get so far as to take over TRT, the state broadcasting company. He might want to appear all the more powerful so that.
Journalist Ilber Ortayli and Andrew Anglin have noted that they went about the coup all wrong. First you capture the leaders, then the media, then you shut down the internet, then you tell the people to take to the streets to support the coup. In this case, it was all done backwards. The people defending the regime took to the streets, and the perpetrators told everyone to go home.
I do not necessarily support these theories. It looks like the coup attempt is real. It’s past noon now, and Prime Minister Yıldırım is speaking. Let’s see what happens. Perhaps we will never know.
A Weekend in a Sivas Village
It’s 11:03 pm and we’re traveling on the otoyol somewhere near Adapazarı. Ten middle-aged passengers on this chartered Metro Turizm bus are dancing the halay in the aisle. What’s all the commotion? A Turkish wedding on a bus? A young man going to military service? Strange….
Refugees with degrees: Eyad Abdulkader, Part 1
With the agreement to return Syrian refugees to Turkey, it’s worth remembering that despite what Amnesty international says about Turkey being unfit for refugees, Turkey has a number of educated refugees and displaced persons who are making their way in Turkey doing things like N…
Refugees with degrees: Shawarmas and Staying in Turkey

News about Syrian refugees and Turkey make this country seem like just a springboard for Syrians going to Europe and North America.
The narrative seems to go like this: Syrian refugee comes to Turkey. Syrian wants to live the EU dream and be reunited with uncle/cousin/friend who is already there. Syrian waits for dangerous passage to Europe. Syrian pays a grand for a fake passport made in Aksaray. Syrian waits in secret, marginalized squalor in a hostile country with a fickle government and xenophobic people who want them out.
A trip to Aksaray for lunch tells a slightly different story.
My Syrian coworker Monty and I recently went for lunch in Little Syria, aka the Haseki area of Fatih (Aksaray, as most know it) to a place called Sahtin on Turgut Ozal Millet Caddesi, a 15 minute walk from the Yenikapi Marmaray station.

Monty, an ESL instructor at Istanbul Şehir University who has a master’s degree in TESOL from University of Aleppo, has been in Istanbul since 2012. He likes Sahtin because the food is “exactly the same” as what he ate in his hometown, Aleppo. Sahtin is spacious, with two floors facing the busy avenue, strips of colorful LED lighting in a ceiling with wood planks. A Syrian sports channel was tuned to the Syrian national team’s 2018 World Cup qualifier.
First came some tabouli (chopped parsley, mint, bulgur and tomatoes) some krem thoom, creamy garlic sauce (made with vegetable oil, garlic, lemon, egg whites and salt). There was also hummus. Ah, humus! The dish that is the most commonly misconceived as being replete in Turkey. Humus is not common here (except for in Hatay), and it’s usually not very good.

Before our food came, Monty talked briefly about his story. A participant in peaceful protests in 2012, he fled to Turkey when things got deadly. Turkey wasn’t a first choice.
“I was planning to go to the Gulf. They pay (English teachers) well there. When the revolution started, unfortunately, those people who call themselves ‘Arabs’ stopped giving visas,” he said. “Turkey was a last resort, but I have no regrets.”
His sister, who is married with children, settled in Istanbul 11 years ago. About a year ago, when he had delays renewing his passport, he considered slipping out of the country. But he doesn’t have a burning desire to leave in the near future.
“I look at my brother and cousins in Europe. I compare their situation and what they are in now. I’m thankful for what I have here. I have good friends. If I went to Europe, what kind of job would I have? Working at a restaurant?”
At that moment, the only restaurant on our minds served the folded heaven known as the Syrian chicken shawarma. It’s folded up flat pita with heaps of a soft, mild melted cheese, cuts of succulent döner chicken. The result was filling without being too heavy, not like you just had an air sandwich Turkish döner, but that you ate something to power you through an Istanbul day.
“This deliciousness could put all the döner places in Istanbul out of business!” I proclaimed, knowing full well that it’s too “foreign” for the Turkish fast food palate.
Afterwards, we continued to chat over some strong Syrian tea. Monty chatted to a waiter. He said fewer Syrians coming to the restaurant, a result of the exodus to Europe.
Would you stay in Turkey? I asked Monty. “Maybe if I met a Turkish girl,” he said with a laugh. For now, this highly educated English teacher has a decent life here — not without it’s troubles — and he isn’t climbing over people to be the next man out.
Update: Monty is dating a Dutch woman, but still plans to stay in Turkey for the time being.