Turkey's conscientious objectors fear post-coup rise in militarism

ISTANBUL, Turkey - When he graduated from college facing the prospect of mandatory national service, Onur Erem emailed the General Staff of Turkey’s armed forces to ask what punishment he would face as a conscientious objector.

A military staff member replied, telling Erem bluntly that he could not avoid service. Erem responded that he knew his pacifist objections were not legally recognised - but he wanted to know what might happen if he did object.

The answer was not straightforward - conscientious objection is still a relatively new concept in Turkey, which has for years required at least six months' service from young men. 

Those who have objected have faced arrest, and some have alleged abuse during their time in custody. Meanwhile, calls from the EU that the rights of conscientious objectors be recognised have gone unheeded.

Erem has been exempted from service on health grounds since his objection in 2010, but has spent his free time campaigning for the rights of other pacifists.

“In the 1990s they saw [conscientious objection] as a security issue because they needed to fight leftists and Kurdish people," he said.

By allowing conscientious objection, "they would not have enough people [in the army] and would not be able to brainwash people in their mandatory lectures on nationalism".

"I have no legal problems, but I still work with colleagues because this is what I want to change in Turkey.”

And with the flaring of the war with the PKK and the failed coup of 15 July, conscientious objectors fear their cause will be set back. Most troubling is the creeping militarisation of their homeland, and the knock-on effect for those who want to opt out.

"We don't think this will change, especially in a time of war. Militarism is on the rise in Turkey."

Indeed Erem, who co-founded Turkey's Conscientious Objection Association two years ago, which now counts more than 300 members, sees the coup attempt as a symptom of Turkey’s mandatory conscription policy. 

“Not all the soldiers would choose to be there if they had the right to conscientious objection,” he says. Many did not realise that they were participating in a coup: they simply thought they were following orders.

A statement released by the association a day after the coup put the point more forcefully: “While the conscientious objectors who refuse to die and kill are being charged with insubordination, the soldiers who obey orders of their superiors are facing charges of high treason."

A short history of objection

The first known objection was lodged in 1989, when a conscript refused to fight the Kurdish PKK. Since then, the number has steadily risen, with estimates now in the thousands.

Those who object face arrest and, in some cases, jail for "insubordination"; the government last year announced formal plans to introduce prison terms for objectors - six months for university graduates and one year for non-graduates. 

In recent years, the military has been trying to move from conscription to a professional recruitment model, and was already facing a public relations crisis even before the coup attempt of 15 July, with not enough men to fill its ranks.

Its armed forces number about 600,000 men, the second-largest in NATO, but there are an estimated 750,000 Turkish men who either legally defer the draft or are considered "evaders".

And now, in post-coup Turkey, the purge of thousands of soldiers has left the already stretched army with a significant manpower problem. This, objectors fear, could have knock-on effects for evaders, as well as themselves.

Knowing it’s not on every man's agenda, the military offers several legal ways to opt out or delay service. A 21-year-old may study, be medically unfit, live outside the country or prove his homosexuality, which is still banned in the Turkish armed forces.

Some evaders push the rules to the limit, taking 10 years to finish their degree, intentionally harming themselves or hiring friends to help fill out a “gay report”. 

Occasionally, when short on funds, the military will have a three-month amnesty, during which men aged 26 or older can pay a sizeable sum to skip the service.

But those who cannot pay, or who live outside Turkey's big cities and have no urban networks to support them, or who do not wish to use one of the more extreme methods of dodging the draft, end up in hiding.

Those who are found either enlist, or face court. Many are Kurds from southeast Turkey, who would have been sent to their own communities to fight against the PKK. 

One activist, Can Baskent, linked up with the Conscientious Objection Association when the movement was still an informal one, and aided refuseniks in court.

Few then could afford a solicitor, the military had no precedent for what to do with them and the public was still too unaware to exert any pressure. The result for many was long jail sentences and, in some cases, allegations of torture.

Baskent, who left Turkey in 2005 and has not served in the military, drily recalls what joining the movement meant: “Come join us so you can ruin your life and go to prison."

“Getting a passport is a big deal, and there’s a lot of social stigma. It’s more difficult to start a business because you have to register with the government and pay taxes, where they can perhaps see you’ve evaded.”

From friends to legal partners

In time, the COA morphed from a circle of friends into a legal association with the support of leftists, religious Muslims, some Kurdish militants who oppose the state, pacifists and female allies.

Its members tour colleges to inform students of their rights, coordinate with international groups and share advice on how to find jobs - one of their biggest challenges, since sympathetic employers are rare.

As awareness builds, the association has been part of the pressure that has forced the government to review the status of conscientious objectors.

The coup attempt of last month has provided fresh impetus. Since then, several major newspapers have published articles on the need for Turkey to recognise the right to object. 

In the 12 days following the coup, the association received 11 Facebook messages and nine emails, compared to six and four during the 12 preceding ones.

Most asked how the coup aftermath would affect objectors and the process of declaring objection: especially on whether it's enough to wear a military uniform when authorities are rounding up soldiers, and whether there is any change to the need to submit a signed declaration to a military office.

Three people publicly declared their conscientious objection at a news conference held by the association after the coup.

Another declared his objection on the anniversary of the Suruc massacre, in which two objectors died on 20 July, 2015.

Feride Eralp, who works with Kurds for the feminist peace group Women for Peace, said that the broader objector movement was trying to bring the government to the negotiating table for fairer terms.

"The way in which we want to govern our lives is subject to an oppressive majority," she said.

"We refuse to take part in this structure, we are not going to champion war."

She said mandatory conscription disproportionately affected the poor - who were unable to pay their way out of service.

"Poorer people often have no choice and mostly poorer people end up dying," she said.

Nevertheless, many in Turkey do still view national service as a source of pride, and look down on those who refuse to serve.

“You’re expected to do this [military service] so you can start your life as a man,” says Eralp, adding that such beliefs support a “socialisation of war, which is even more dangerous than war itself, where the whole society is manic”.

And members of the objector movement are less hopeful than ever about their legal and physical security.

An uncertain future

In post-coup Turkey, President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and his supporters have focused their energy on coup "traitors” rather than conscientious “insubordinates” - but objectors will not be let off the hook that easily. 

And with Erdogan apparently caring less about compromising with the EU, Brussels' insistence that Turkey recognise the right to conscientious objection is now unlikely to make it to his desk.

The coup, Erem said, "shows the necessity of the right of conscientious objection".

“The people, they realise soldiers were seen as heroes by nationalist people - until they were attacked by the same people on the streets because they were involved in the coup attempt.

"But most of the soldiers didn’t know what they were brought out for. They thought they were brought out for practice.

"They were forced to shoot and then were beaten and some killed, so a lot of people started questioning the situation right now in Turkey. 

"Not all of the people, the soldiers, would choose to be there if they had the right," he said

Nevertheless, for Erem and his movement, the future is far from certain.

“A lot of people are afraid of this violent atmosphere,” he says. “Because we don’t know where this violence will lead to next.”