On a windy, rainy day in Istanbul three weeks ago, I was put on trial. I was accused of "denigrating Turkishness" in my latest novel, The Bastard of Istanbul. This is the story of two familes - the Kazanci, a Turkish family, and the Tchakmakchians, an Armenian family - who look very different at first glance and yet have one big thing in common: a painful history. It is a history of these families seen through the eyes of their women, especially their Armenian and Turkish grandmothers. Although it deals with sorrowful memories and political taboos, the novel was warmly welcomed in Turkey. It was widely read and freely discussed by large segments of the society. But then a group of ultranationalist lawyers filed a suit against me under Article 301 of the Turkish penal code, accusing me of "taking the side of Armenians and betraying the Turks". The file was taken to court and thus started a long process of interrogation and trial.
Article 301 has already been used to press charges against numerous critical-minded people, including journalists, editors, publishers and writers - my trial was yet another case in a long series of lawsuits which continues to this day. But there was a bizarre twist to my case: for the first time ever, it was a work of fiction that was being accused of denigrating Turkishness.
The spotlight was turned on the Armenian characters in my novel. For instance one of the characters, called Auntie Varsenig, utters fervently: "Tell me how many Turks ever learned Armenian. None! Why did our mothers learn their language and not vice versa? Isn't it clear who has dominated whom? Only a handful of Turks come from Central Asia, right, and then the next thing you know they are everywhere, what happened to the millions of Armenians who were already there? Assimilated! Massacred! Orphaned! Deported! And then forgotten!" My ultranationalist critics claimed that by making such statements, my novel was propagating "Armenian genocide" and should therefore be sentenced.
As long as Article 301 remains, there will be many other trials in Turkey, especially regarding taboo themes, like the Armenian question. But after the French parliament has made it a crime to deny Armenians suffered genocide at the hands of Ottoman Turks during the first world war, I cannot help but worry about what will happen in France.
There are difficult periods in almost every nation's history - including Turkey's. The denial of this fundamental fact and the resistance to any mention of the events of 1915 has been a stumbling block in front of an open democracy in my country. It is important to raise historical consciousness about the critical events of the past, no matter how dark they might have been. Memory is a responsibility and a prerequisite to a mature democratic culture.
We Turks can and should share the grief of Armenians and respect their pain. We Turks can and should be able to come to grips with the dark pages of our past. We can talk about the errors of our grandfathers, not to implant new seeds of hostility but to open up a better future for our children.
However, the recent developments in France cannot have a positive role in solving this deeply-rooted historical problem. If states try to dictate one version of history at the expense of all alternative readings, not only freedom of expression but also a genuine interest in history is stifled. No matter how benign the ultimate aim might be, such attempts only make matters worse. Turkey's history with Armenians is a sensitive issue for all involved. This old wound can only be healed if more and more people, both Armenians and Turks, start to hear each other.
There is a clash of opinions in Turkey. On the one hand are those who stand up for freedom of thought and open democracy, those who believe that the country should come to grips with its past. On the other hand are those who staunchly oppose Turkey's bid to join the EU and would like to keep the country as an insular, isolated, xenophobic nation-state cut off from the west.
This new French law will only play into the isolationists' hands. Hardliners will only create further hardliners. Anti-Turkish sentiments in Europe will buttress Turkish nationalism here and vice versa. The backlash is already coming - newspapers have called for a boycott on French goods while politicians have been talking about possible retaliatory measures, such as passing a law on "the French genocide in Algeria".
More importantly, this law will not improve in the slightest the relations between ordinary Armenians and ordinary Turks. The legacy of 1915 is still an open wound in the heart of two peoples. It should be treated by Armenians and Turks together, through dialogue and empathy. For this to happen we need more and more individuals who have the courage and the vision to transcend national boundaries and nationalist dogmas. A genuine change can only come from below, not from above, it can be created by individuals and peoples, not by states and politicians.
This new French law will give the upper hand to hardliners in Turkey. In the ensuing tumult of tit-for-tat politics, a masculinist, nationalist language will escalate. And it will be the stories of Armenian and Turkish women, and of their Armenian and Turkish grandmothers that will be silenced once again.
