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November 5, 2003
Read a "A Struggle on Two Fronts," a response to this article by Zehra F. Arat. Use the link in the right sidebar.
“You, women, stand side by side and finish this practice. This is
not the first one. It will not be the last one. Allah will not forgive
this; neither will the Prophet. Our hearts are aching with sadness.”
These words were spoken to me by a graveyard keeper as I was leaving
the Diyarbakýr Cemetery for the Destitute and without Family after
visiting the burial site of Semse Allak last June. Semse was stoned by
male family members in late November of 2002 in Mardin, Turkey. After
spending seven months in a coma, she died in June 2003. Her body was
buried by a large group of women activists in an unusual religious
ceremony. According to the practices of Islam in Turkey, women are not
allowed to conduct the religious burial prayer—they may only stand on
the sidelines and watch. However, in this case, women performed the
service for Semse, a first in our memory. Semse was a victim of so-called honor killings. Honor
killings—one of the most horrendous violations of women’s human rights
and a form of extrajudicial execution—target individuals who believe,
or are perceived to believe, in values and standards that are at odds
with the social norms of their society. Although they are a most severe
form of violence, honor killings are not the only type of violence
faced by women in Turkey. Women are also subject to abuses such as
marital rape, female genital mutilation, nose cutting, bride price,
forced marriages, polygamy, and forced virginity testing. To make
matters worse, the state fails to recognize its duties and
responsibilities in eradicating these forms of violence, and
legitimizes them by deeming them “family problems” or “domestic
situations.” Soon after Semse’s burial, our project team of KA-MER, an
independent women’s organization in Diyarbakýr, held its first open
meeting, inviting representatives from the government, judiciary,
media, police force, health groups, the community, and other NGOs to
discuss ways of eradicating honor killings. As a women’s rights
activist and a feminist researcher, I am working with KA-MER to prevent
honor killings in southeastern and eastern Turkey. We take a broad
approach by trying to address the problem before the execution occurs,
in addition to dealing with killings after they happen. We work both on
the community level and with government officials to create awareness
and eventually to eradicate this practice. Unfortunately, Semse was stoned before KA-MER heard about the
danger she was in and could intervene. Her case received worldwide
public attention, partly because stoning—as opposed to shooting or
stabbing—a woman or man in the name of honor is very rare in Turkey.
Religious leaders’ attitude toward honor killings is very clear: they
denounce the practice. Similarly, activists working on the issue have
never cited imams, the Qur’an, or Islam as sources of the problem in
Turkey. This point was made clear to me when, during my visit in Urfa,
one of the most religious and conservative cities in the country, I
challenged the concept of honor killings by arguing that the Qur’an
does not permit women to be treated like this. A very religious Muslim
tribal leader responded, “This is honor, what has that got to do with
the Qur’an? Men’s honor comes before the Book.” Our exchange made me
realize that invoking the Qur’an is not a useful way to denounce this
violence. Instead, the concepts of masculinity, culture, and tradition,
which are rooted in the community, must be studied and utilized to end
honor killings. One of the obstacles that women’s human rights activists face
in their work is the fact that Turkey’s judiciary often justifies honor
killings on the grounds of tradition, culture, and assault on a family
member’s manhood. While the Turkish Penal Code does not have a specific
clause relating to the concept of honor, courts often cite honor as a
mitigating factor in their judgments, stating that a challenge to honor
causes a heavy provocation to the perpetrators of honor killings. Another obstacle is mainstream human rights activists in
Turkey who downplay the significance of the crime. For instance, a
well-known human rights activist working against capital punishment
once complained to me and other activists that the recent media
attention devoted to honor killings was “exaggerating this women thing
to the level of a human rights violation and therefore diminishing the
power of human rights.” For many such human rights activists, honor
killings do not belong on the same level as torture, lack of freedom of
expression, or extrajudicial executions. Violence against women is legitimized by the attitudes of
state actors, many mainstream human rights activists, and Turkish
society at large because ultimately gender imbalances are the status
quo. Challenging the parameters of these power dynamics is complex
since they are imbedded in interpersonal relations, family, community,
and culture. In short, women lack autonomy—they suffer when they assert
their rights as individuals and go against established societal norms.
Often women are seen as the battlegrounds for men’s struggles to assert
and reclaim their masculinity. Honor killings are seen as the lesser of
two evils since, in some instances, they are thought to prevent feuds
that could destroy the stability of the whole society. Thus, people in
Semse’s village claimed that her death was necessary to prevent endless
violent feuding between her family and that of the man who supposedly
dishonored her through extramarital sexual relations. In order to prevent honor killings, it is crucial to redefine
the concept of honor within the community. From the moment a woman or
girl transgresses a norm—which she could do by losing her virginity or
by calling the radio station and asking for a favorite song—until the
moment she is murdered in the name of honor, her family and the
community she lives in go through a decision-making process in which
they make judgments about her moral standing. When her name is out as a
transgressor, her male relatives cannot walk in the village with heads
high. To reclaim their manhood in the eyes of other men, they cleanse
their honor by stabbing or sometimes stoning her. Because such a concept of honor is so imbedded in Turkish
culture, and cultural variables are what we try to understand, use, and
hopefully transform when interfering in these cases, we do not use a
human rights framework when we intervene preventively at the local
level. When talking to families, a cultural discourse proves to be very
effective. We believe that male family members are also victims of the
concept of masculinity—they suffer throughout the decision-making
process. We try to give men what I call cultural and psychological
space where their masculinity is not challenged and they do not feel
forced to kill in order to cleanse their honor. To do this, and in
order to help create space for long-term change, we take advantage of
some of the positive aspects of Turkish culture that offer individual
men an excuse to avoid violence. These include special occasions and
gatherings where nonviolent negotiations are encouraged or where
authority figures can act as intermediaries, in which we can make use
of traditions of hospitality toward guests or respect for elderly
people’s recommendations as tools to prevent these crimes. However, when we talk with government officials, we use a
human rights framework because it is an effective tool for achieving
official recognition that honor killings are a form of extrajudicial
execution. One of our main goals is to use the UN General Assembly
resolution “Working Towards the Elimination of Crimes Committed in the
Name of Honor,” of which Turkey is a cosponsor, within national courts
to show that honor killings are not isolated incidents and should be
recognized as human rights violations. We also refer to the UN
Commission on Human Rights resolution on extrajudicial, arbitrary, and
summary executions, which Turkey has also signed. We think that using
these human rights instruments offers an opportunity for women’s human
rights defenders to achieve official, government recognition of this
issue as a human rights violation and to put violence against women on
the same plane as extrajudicial executions and torture. Semse’s horrendous death brought people to their feet not only
in Turkey but also around the world. In order to eradicate this
atrocious crime in Turkey, activists must use all possible advocacy
tools—changing society’s discourse by using some of its own terms of
reference, reforming the judiciary, and incorporating a gender
perspective into the human rights advocacy being conducted in Turkey.
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