Perhaps no other political unrest impacted the political landscape of Turkey in the modern era as much as the Gezi Park protests. Beginning on May 28, 2013, the protests led to demonstrations of resistance over president Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s government (Whitehead & Bozoglu, 2017). Gezi Park, located right in the middle of busy Taksim Square, is the last remaining green space surrounding the busy skyline of Istanbul. Initially, the protests began as a type of environmental movement, with a small group of people protesting the construction of a mall that would lead to the destruction of the green space. The park was the only space for civilians living around the busy skyline of Istanbul to partake in leisurely activities. Erdogan’s government planned to implement what they termed an “urban renewal project”: construct an Ottoman Artillery Barrack, previously demolished in 1939 (Whitehead & Bozoglu, 2017). The small organization of the environmental group, while successful in preventing the construction, could not stop a bulldozer that tore down trees in the park (Odabaş & Reynolds-Stenson, 2018). The government eventually responded with force by evicting the small group of protesters. Little did they know this would lead to a large-scale four-month anti-government protest (Chrona & Bee, 2017).
Police use of pepper spray and water cannons increased the image of violence, which further increased the number of protestors gathering around the park (Seckinelgin, 2016). By June 1, 2013, protests spread to other parts of the country (Seckinelgin, 2016). Erdogan’s response incited large-scale protests after he referred to the protestors as Media owners were extremely dependent on the clientelist relations with the state which enabled them to acquire tenders to undertake massive projects financed by the public. This has prevented these companies from performing the watchdog function expected from the media in established democracies.
Turkey is infamous for its freedom of press index. Ranked 154 out of 179 countries, Turkey lies at the bottom of the World Press Freedom Index (Martinez, 2013). The media blackout, an illustration of Erdogan’s power and influence over mainstream media, further led to increased agitation among protestors, who took to tweeting. International news media remained informed on the protests through tweets from Turkey (Oz, 2016, p. 178). Twitter, henceforth, became a primary avenue for protestors to express and report on the events surrounding the protests. The protesters also launched a campaign the objective of which was to be heard by other Western media such as
There are approximately 350,000 Americans of Turkish descent that live across the United States (Turkish Coalition of America, 2020). The second author of this paper is an American citizen of Turkish descent. As someone who is an outsider to both America and Turkey, I asked them how he came across the protests in Turkey and how this information (of the protests) shaped his identity. His response:
I constantly negotiate with the identity of the two cultures, American and Turkish. This is done through my personal experiences and exposure to media. Through media, I construct and affirm my cultural citizenship. However, in times of uncertainty and instability, this further puts my understanding and perceptions of my cultures in jeopardy. When the protest at Gezi Park occurred, I relied on the narrative of the Western media. This narrative had a strong impact on shaping how I viewed and interpreted the protests and the future of Turkey. Furthermore, their rhetoric influenced how I remember these protests and the government’s reaction to them.
Essentially, Western media’s framing of such incidents not only impacts foreign audiences (such as myself) but also audiences that have an intrinsic connection to these events. A common aspect of convergence here is that, for most of us (whether we are a foreign national, an American, or a Turkish American), media is the only avenue for receiving information on a particular event that occurs far from our social landscape. Consequently, we are compelled to give media institutions the power to construct, frame, contest, and revise our memories of a particular event.
In this paper, we analyze the coverage of the Gezi Park protests by two major Western newspapers—
Blair, Dickinson and Ott (2010) theorize topographical places (archives, libraries, museums); monumental places (cemeteries, architectural edifices); symbolic places (commemorative rites, pilgrimages, emblems); functional places (manuals, autobiographies, associations); and places of power (states, elites, milieux) which constitute their historical archives in relation to the different uses they make of memory.
This study, therefore, advances the argument that stored archives (topographical places) manifest as sites of memory.
The dawn of the internet along with globalization have changed how collective memories are constituted (Linke, 2015). The internet provides both individuals and collectives with huge amounts of data that can be accessed at any point in time in the current milieu. The internet has a significant impact on collective memory and on the process of remembering and forgetting (Gavilanes, Mollgaard, Tsvetkova, & Yasseri, 2016, p. 1). Linke (2015, p. 186) writes that memories in the globalized world are portable and events from the past can be accessed from various people at the same time. The “portability” of memory, as Linke (2015) terms it, is further enhanced by the ubiquity of smartphones. To illustrate, we are increasingly experiencing moments such as concerts, travel, protests, and even gatherings through the lens of our camera/display of our phone, and these events can be relived at a later point in time by accessing the stored archives from our phones. Events that have significance in a much more collective sense can be stored and accessed from a smart phone, rendering and enhancing the portability of memories. Technology has literally altered our experience of time and space. Linke (2015) writes “the planetary proliferation of electronic media has altered the possibilities of memory recall and input across the globe: moments in time can be recorded, stored, then brought back to life, restaged, or replayed” (p. 186). Essentially, electronic media becomes an avenue for storing memories through archives, particularly digital archives. Almost six years after the events at Gezi Park, the digital archives on Gezi Park protests from
Capitalist economic development across the world has invited competition among media, with several competing versions of one event being projected across various channels (Linke, 2015). Further, the need for spectacle and hype (in media) acts as a catalyst for increasing the fluidity of memory, making collective memory more unstable than it already is (Linke, 2015). Power and authority, major factors in capitalism, aid in this contestation and negotiation of a society’s collective memory. This process of contesting and revising of memories, along with these memories being replaced by other memories, is fundamentally a rhetorical process (Phillips, 2004). In other words, the ways in which “memories attain meaning, compel others to accept them, and are themselves contested, subverted, and supplanted by other memories – is rhetorical” (Phillips, 2004, pp. 2–3). We might use certain symbols or messages for recollecting a particular event; however, these symbols and messages themselves are being constantly contested through a rhetorical process of remembering and forgetting.
In this constant contestation of memories, media’s role in shaping our memories should by no means be disregarded. How many of us remember the events of 9/11 through the lens of our TV? The haunting replays of the planes crashing into the building is the frame through which most of us remember the event. Media essentially framed our remembrance of this event; this is particularly true of people who were not present in the vicinity of the terrorist attack or in and around the city of New York. In other words, the farther we are from the event in question, the more we rely on media to get our information. Consequently, the frames utilized by the media organization are eventually the way we remember these events that were taking place far from our social landscape. Hence, we not only must emphasize the significance of stored digital archives in shaping our memories of an event, but also study the ways (or the “how”) these stored digital archives are performing a rhetorical function of framing collective memory.
Human beings are able to create meaning in our society through the action of arranging, organizing, and interpreting their life experiences into specific frames, permitting them to understand, comprehend, and identify the infinite amounts of information (Goffman, 1974). The phenomenon of framing categorizes changes/formulation of opinions (sometimes very strong) often originating from minute presentation modifications of issues. In other words, framing could be defined as a phenomenon that constructs audiences’ conceptualization of particular issues, reaffirming or changing perceptions in the process (Chong & Druckman, 2007). Gamson and Modigliani (1989) specified frames as packages comprising arguments, information, symbols, metaphors, and images that are used to characterize issues in our society. Entman (1993) presents a detailed explanation of framing theory by defining selection and salience as two essential factors. In essence, the framing process is a selection of specific aspects, and then making them prominent through communication in ways that promote/demote particular issues, representations, moral implications, and recommendations.
Through their daily routines, journalists and media organizations categorize the vast amount of information into frames that they communicate for easy comprehension and understanding for their audiences (Camaj, 2010). Journalistic practices enable integration of interpretations and choosing specific topics of engagement. Value judgments (made by journalists) based on the noteworthiness of certain frames of text, provide a broader perspective on journalism practices. Contentious issues provide a much higher scope for journalistic interpretations and frame construction. We tend come across severely opinionated frames when it comes to contentious issues (immigration, political unrest, protests, etc.). Another contentious issue is how journalists (in the US) interpret Middle Eastern countries and report war stories from an international news perspective. Here, frame setting and frame construction can be a powerful entity influencing public opinion on international conflicts. Melki (2014), for example, observes frame construction of journalists in the context of the 2006 Lebanon–Israel war from the perspectives of US, Israeli, and Arab TV news. Melki (2014) observes a strong trend of varied frames in each TV network’s journalism due to different political views and varied cultural and economic factors. It is observed that ideology plays a key factor in journalistic practice. A journalist’s active news interpretation can depend on his/her ideology based on political, cultural, and economic factors. Journalistic frames can vary on a continuum from passively interpreting the issue (subconsciously or using information from sources) to actively presenting highly individualistic interpretations/frames of issues to the audience (Brüggemann, 2014).
These frames constructed by journalists and media impact how we perceive issues and events in our societies, essentially negotiating how these events and issues are remembered. Kuypers (2009) writes:
Frames are so powerful because they induce us to filter our perceptions of the world in particular ways, essentially making some aspects of our multi-dimensional reality more noticeable than other aspects. They operate by making some information more salient than other information; therefore, they highlight some features of reality while omitting others. We rarely notice this process, especially the omission of information, because our public attention is highly selective; we too often rely upon and accept information that is easily accessible. Our judgments about the world are in part due to what standards come to our minds, but also are related to information that is easily accessible.
In essence, the framing process is a selection of specific aspects followed by making them prominent through communication in ways that promote/demote particular issues, representations, moral implications, and recommendations (Entman, 1993). What we are explaining is a highly rhetorical process. The process of media, consciously or unconsciously, promoting or denoting a specific attribute or aspect of an issue through visuals, symbols, texts, language, is inherently a rhetorical process:
Framing involves how the press organizes the context through which the public views its news. At its heart this is a rhetorical process, and this is why I believe framing theory can be especially fruitful when adapted to a rhetorical perspective.
Despite the fundamentally rhetorical nature of framing, the study of media framing is more popular and prevalent among social scientific enquiries, although rhetorical scholars in recent times have started to employ the theory of media framing in their critiques (see Ott & Aoki, 2002; Kuypers, 2002; Kuypers & Cooper, 2005; Edwards, 2009; Valenzano, 2009). We, however, not only argue that framing theory is closely linked to rhetorical criticism but that it is also linked to collective memory. Both the processes of promoting and denoting a specific aspect of an issue (framing) and contesting and revising of memories are rhetorical processes. Media is a substantial entity in a society, with an apparatus to frame collective memory by framing certain issues (or aspects of issues). This is particularly true in the case of events (such as the Gezi Park protests) happening far from the audience’s social landscape. We give media the power and opportunity to construct, promote/denote, and contest/revise our recollection and reminiscence (and even commemoration) of an event in the past. It is, henceforth, of utmost importance that we are cognizant of the significance that the theory of media framing holds in contributing to the contesting and revising of our collective memories.
The digital archives from The development of the discourse topic within an extensive piece of discourse may be thought of in terms of a succession of hierarchically ordered subtopics, each of which contributes to the discourse topic, and is treated as a sequence of ideas, expressed in the written language as sentences. The way the written sentences in discourse relate to the discourse topic is called topical development of discourse.
The topics of discourse in our paper are nothing but the overarching themes: “the subject of discussion, or that which is the subject of the thought expressed and the media frames are then suggesting a particular interpretation of the theme” (Kuypers, 2009, p. 187). The dominant frame of discourse of the texts was to present the protests as a challenge to authoritarian government. Each of the discourse topics (representing a frame of discourse) such as conflict of ideologies, oppression of citizens, and the park as a site of memory, contribute to the dominant frame of discourse. In the following paragraphs, we illustrate how
From the narratives embedded within the stories of The impending destruction of Gezi Park and Taksim Square, an important civic space with beautiful water fountains and flower stands, has touched a nerve because it seems an effort to erase the face of the old, majestic Istanbul, which has largely disappeared in recent years in favor of shallow, gaudy, stupefied consumerism.
However, according to both It was about the autocratic turn of a conservative leader in power for 11 years. It was about Erdogan’s invasion of Turks’ personal lives, the way he calls them alcoholics if they drink, or advises them not to kiss on the subway, or comments on their dress. He is not the Sultan!
“He is not the Sultan!” emphatically writes a columnist from The square has become an arena for clashing worldviews: an unyielding leader’s top-down, neo-Ottoman, conservative vision of the nation as a regional power versus a bottom-up, pluralist, disordered, primarily young, less Islamist vision of the country as a modern democracy.
The above excerpt is an illustration of news stories framing Erdogan as an authoritarian leader with nationalist conservative views. Six years after the protests, the memories of the events are still stored in the digital spaces of these two newspapers. The texts perform an important rhetorical function by not only framing the dominant discourse of protests as challenge to an authoritarian government but also on how the protests turned into a conflict of ideologies. The stringent laws on alcohol consumption, regulations on abortion, and the authoritarian leader’s statements on people’s personal choices were the themes of coverage that contribute to the framing of the unrest as a conflict of ideologies. Further, the news stories perform a rhetorical function of reconstructing the memories of the readers, reminding them that with Erdogan still the Prime Minister—6 years after the protests—for the secular left population, the struggle against the conservative right-wing government still continues.
As the city center turned into a battlefield, 24/7 news channels opted to air documentaries about penguins or to go on with their talk shows. One channel, Haberturk TV, only 200 yards from the now famous Gezi Park, had three medical experts discussing schizophrenia—an apt metaphor for the state of journalism in Turkey.
As illustrated above, “It has come to a point where members can’t even tweet without fear of being investigated for their thoughts” said Mr. Muhcu, one of the few activists still willing to offer a public critique of the government. Dozens of journalists have lost their jobs for reporting on the demonstrations.
The violent response to a peaceful protest to save Istanbul’s Gezi Park symbolizes an autocratic government’s increasing encroachment on the civil rights of the country’s citizens. We hope for new dialogue—one that can restore the trust of Turkish citizens in a government that positioned Turkey as a global economic power, but which is now getting recognition around the world for condoning harsh police retaliation that strikes at the pillars of democracy.
As mentioned before, It has become synonymous with the alternative, youth-driven anti-Erdogan movement. Students sleeping under the plane trees in Gezi Park, Istanbul, have dubbed their makeshift camp Capulistan, with many mounting cardboard signs next to their dwellings that read Capul residence. Meanwhile, the city’s must-have fashion accessory is a white T-shirt with the slogan: Every day I’m capuling.
This framing of discourse surrounding citizens fighting back against the oppressive government had far more narratives than just the young population embracing the word I started to breathe again (after the tear gas), thankfully, but I saw the water cannon, and I was scared, and people got panicked. I kept checking behind me to see if it was going to hit me, and it did. But then I thought, O.K., we passed this, we can survive it. And I became braver. We went back maybe 10 times that night. When everyone in the neighborhoods began banging pots and pans from their windows for us, I was going to cry. I thought, Wow, we are doing something good.
Due to the media blackout in the mainstream Turkish media, the protesters raised a campaign to publish a full-page ad in the Our investigation in Turkey confirmed that the government has been engaged in the excessive and unnecessary use of force—including using tear gas as a weapon of mass scale—which has claimed several lives and led to thousands of injuries, Dr. Vincent Iacopino, the senior medical adviser to the Physicians for Human Rights, a Boston-based group that participated in the research and publication of the report, said in a statement on its Web site.
The rhetorical framing of the digital archives from
Urban parks are an effective representation of collective memories of the surrounding society (Aptekar, 2017). Taksim Square, home to Gezi Park, is an important public space that has since been the only green space in the area. Further, a protest on its own serves as a ground of memory and the space around these events manifests as a site of memory. White and Bozoğlu’s (2016) study examined the Gezi Park protest as a heritage site. They argued that the protest site served as a ground of memories that are articulated and renewed by different groups (White & Bozoğlu, 2016). Additionally, they argued that these protests permit us to understand how heritage sites may open memory and critical exposures of sociopolitical conflict (White & Bozoğlu, 2016). It was important for us to experience that kind of life. If you were hungry, the food was free. If you were wounded, someone would carry you to the emergency tent. If you needed a lawyer, he is always there. Gezi gave us a powerful sense of a world based on solidarity and equality, which we could not imagine before. No one can take away what we experienced in the park.
The journalists from Along with headline sites like Tahrir Square in Cairo and Gezi Park in Istanbul, it’s another example, small and off the radar, of how even the most unlikely public space can become a testing ground for entrenched political authority and the social status quo.
The park, according to the journalist, was similar to a few other places that had a far greater connotation than being just a public access space; it symbolized a “testing ground for social status quo and political authority” (Kimmelman, 2014, para. 2). This aspect of the park space representing political authority was a frequent frame of discourse in both
Why does power hate a city square? A square fields no army, commands no votes, has nowhere to go. It is just a space. Yet it is space that invites occupation, an occupation hostile to power. Hence Turkey’s president felt obliged yesterday to “recapture” Taksim Square in Istanbul. It had become an alternative seat of legitimacy, a place of defiance, an ugly gesture at his majesty. It took tanks, guns, gas and bulldozers, but cleared it had to be. (Jenkins, 2013, para. 1)
He further describes public spaces such as Gezi Park as “civic holy spaces” and notes that a space such as this “echoes past ghosts such as pain and uprising while at the same time holds a promise for the future” (Jenkins, 2013, para. 2). The journalist, in this context is essentially framing public spaces such as Gezi Park as evoking particular memories of the society. The square has great symbolic meaning for the republican history of Turkey in both a political and sociological sense, said Erhan Kelesoglu, a professor of political science at Istanbul University. The prime minister sees this as a milestone to clench his authority. He wants to create a new consolidation of his leadership through the restoration of the artillery barracks. That is why he acts as a mayor instead of a prime minister.
Even while encompassing the frames surrounding this symbolism of the park, the dominant discourse of Erdogan and his government authoritarianism was omnipresent. Planning major changes in this area that holds memories of millions and in the park behind it without any consultation with Istanbulites and hastily bringing it to a stage that involved cutting trees was a major mistake by Erdogan’s government.
The Gezi Park space had transformed into something more than a mere green space. The park was a place of memories and experiences—a site of memory. This rhetorical framing was further illustrated by an
The framing of the digital artifacts from
The digital archives of
Memory is said to be “activated by issues and anxieties of the present” (Blair, Dickinson, & Ott, 2010, p. 6). The framing of
The 2018 elections saw Erdogan reelected with 53% of the vote. The polls show that Erdogan remains popular, with almost half the voters’ support (“Turkey election,” 2018). Arguably, the people who participated in the protest and who were represented through