Original language: German
Congratulations, Nebahat Akkoc!
It was a hot summer when I first met Nebahat Akkoc in Diyarbakir. She was wearing a dazzling white blouse and a beautiful, eye-catching ring. She was sitting in her café in the old caravanserai right in the heart of the old town. I’d been put in touch with her through the Goethe-Institut in Istanbul, and I’d learned beforehand that she was involved in women’s advocacy work. I thought of knitting classes, neighborhood assistance, a small grassroots initiative. Not that small initiatives don’t make a difference, but well, I suppose I had my own prejudices. Feminism in Anatolia? Women’s shelters? Thriving businesses founded by women who had experienced violence? In the Turkish hinterland? Although my family comes from the Kurdish-speaking mountainous regions of Turkey, I wouldn’t have thought it possible that a feminist movement could have made its way from the east to the west of the country.
It turned into a long conversation. Nebahat Akkoc took plenty of time and patiently explained the beginnings of her work to me. We talked about violence, about the way men treated their wives, and about her experiences with organizations. Sitting around us were the very men we were talking about. Part of Nebahat Akkoc’s project was also the open-air tavern—the most beautiful, magnificent, and wonderful restaurant in the world! The name of the women’s organization “Kamer” was discreetly displayed on an awning, but very discreetly indeed. I wonder which of the guests knew what “Kamer” meant? We ate stuffed bulgur dumplings and puff pastry pies and drank wonderfully fragrant tea. An elegant gentleman wearing a purple turban was also among the guests, and I kept thinking: What would this gentleman think if he knew that every glass of tea he drank would help another wife regain her financial independence from her husband?
I have very fond memories of that afternoon and that lovely café. Since then, I’ve been to Diyarbakir many times and sat in the old caravanserai. I am incredibly delighted that Nebahat Akkoc will receive the Anne Klein Women’s Prize from the Heinrich Böll Foundation. The following text appeared in the summer of 2013 on Zeit Online as part of my series “Turkish Days.” It was received with great surprise in Germany.
Congratulations, Nebahat Abla!
Southeastern Anatolia is considered backward in the West. Yet it is precisely here that women are pushing for emancipation, running shops and daycare centers. For it was here that the KAMER movement began, led by Nebahat Akkoç.
Every man who drinks tea in the shade of the cooling walls of the Hasanpa#a Han inn in the heart of Diyarbakir’s old town is helping a woman—to become financially independent, live a self-determined life, and enjoy herself in bed. For anyone drinking tea here finds themselves right at the heart of the feminist movement. It was right here, in southeastern Anatolia, in the Kurdish stronghold on the Tigris, that the KAMER movement began, led by Nebahat Akkoç.
Many men come here, as the stuffed grape leaves and wheat groats dumplings are a testament to culinary excellence. The service is impeccable, and every quarter of an hour, a misting system sprays water vapor over the Hasanpa#a Han. The han, which translates to “inn,” dates back to the 16th century, when camel caravans still traveled along the ancient Silk Road through the trading metropolis of Diyarbakir and travelers rested in caravanserais. Meanwhile, the residents stayed among themselves within the han.
Now, in the afternoon, it’s quiet here because it’s Ramadan, but outside of the fasting period, up to 2,000 guests are served daily. It’s not just well-dressed men in traditional attire who come—women and families visit as well. Business is booming, and there are people who take issue with it. Two months ago, several men came, attacked the staff, vandalized the furnishings, and disappeared again. By M. Kiyak, Diyarbakir.
Murder, Torture, Humiliation
In the life of every civil rights activist, there is a moment that changes everything. For Nebahat Akkoç, it was January 13, 1993. It was the only morning she did not have breakfast with her husband, Zübeyir. The night before, they’d had guests; it had gotten late, and she was still tired. Completely out of character, she stayed in bed and asked him, “Please have breakfast on your own!” He ate and left the house. Shortly afterward, she heard the gunshots.
The murder of Zübeyir Akkoç, in which the government had a hand, was just one chapter in the violence that retired teacher Nebahat Akkoç endured. Her husband, who, like many others, spoke out when it came to human rights, democracy, and freedom, was often imprisoned and endured humiliation, harassment, and torture. In a book, Nebahat Akkoç describes the screams the wives had to endure when they visited their husbands and how they clung to a sliver of hope: As long as you hear cries of pain, at least they’re still alive. After Zübeyir died, she, too, was arrested and tortured.
Ms. Akkoç asked herself: Who are these men who wage war, arrest, torture, rape, beat, and kill? Is there a connection between the violence of war and domestic violence within families? She saw that state institutions, civil society, and even street culture are segregated by gender. She discovered that the roots of violence and militarism always begin in the smallest and earliest organization of every person’s life: namely, one’s own family. When she began to reflect on these issues, 95 percent of Turkish women surveyed believed that violence was normal. Only the remaining 5 percent could imagine that it would be possible to live without it.
In 1997, Nebahat Akkoç founded KAMER, an acronym for Kad#n Merkezi, which translates to “Women’s Center.” She dreams of an emancipated society without gender segregation, without racism, and without nationalism. She does not dream this dream in Istanbul or Izmir, but in Diyarbakir. In this place, where death has become as ubiquitous and commonplace as the trees lining the roads on either side of the paths.
Women learn where violence begins
Change on a large scale begins with change on a small scale. A woman experiences violence at home. Her options for taking action are limited. She thinks: Today I’ll clean the house even more thoroughly than usual, remind the children to be especially well-behaved, and prepare the meals so they look appetizing. He shouldn’t have any reason to scold her. The man comes home—arguments, escalation, violence. Eventually, the woman hears about KAMER; she can’t take it anymore and goes there. Every woman who goes to KAMER brings an average of ten new women with her.
Then the woman attends a course. She learns where violence begins. She does role-playing exercises with other women and gradually comes to understand her situation. Once the women have managed to view themselves from the outside, they recognize parallels and patterns. From that point on, there’s no turning back. The woman understands that she must become more independent, including financially. So KAMER opened restaurants. Until 1998, when the restaurant at Hasanpa#a Han opened, there wasn’t a single restaurant in Diyarbakir owned by a woman. Since then, the number of female restaurant owners in that city alone has risen to 45.
Since not all women in Diyarbakir, Erzincan, or Erzurum—all cities in the Kurdish east of Turkey—can open restaurants, others began sewing and selling their goods in their own shops. Then they decided not only to sew the fabrics but also to weave them. They opened production facilities in Antep, Tunceli, and Erzincan—in a total of seven cities in southeastern Anatolia.
And what about the young children while their mothers are working? KAMER established daycare centers. This led to the book *Alternative Approaches to Child-Rearing*. When a university opened in Tunceli, KAMER opened a guesthouse. There are now 23 KAMER centers in eastern Turkey, and another 21 women’s centers modeled after KAMER have been established in other cities. KAMER has now also made its way into modern western Turkey.
The organization is so successful because it is organized locally. The KAMER women speak a common language: Kurdish. If a woman is threatened by a family crime, an escape is organized, documents are obtained, and above all, the women are not left alone. When a woman says, “You know how it is with ‘us,’ right?” the KAMER friend knows exactly what she means because she comes from the same background, the same village, or the same family. The women collaborate with the police and with hospitals that provide free treatment. KAMER offers courses in creating business plans; in short: KAMER teaches women that they can be strong, and that women’s rights are human rights.
And what happens to the men in the meantime? “A woman who comes to us changes,” says Nebahat Akkoç, “but a man who beats his wife always remains the same.” However, a woman who has been with KAMER has the organization’s support, as well as that of the district attorney, the police, and the judge. Marital rape is now a criminal offense. Anyone who commits violence is prohibited by law from approaching his wife.
The woman’s sphere of influence has expanded, and her scope for action has grown. Recent studies show that a shift in public awareness has begun over the past decade. Eight out of ten women now believe that domestic violence is not normal. One-tenth of all those seeking help at KAMER end up getting divorced.
Suddenly, men are more respectful
Women are experiencing a transformation in their relationships. They report that their husbands are beginning to treat them with respect. Sexuality also plays an important role in this. Nebahat Akkoç believes that not only cultural self-determination but also sexual self-determination is an important step toward a peaceful society. Only a peaceful marriage produces peaceful children—self-confident daughters and sons who together form a peaceful society.
So she explained to the women what the clitoris is and how an orgasm works. She asked well-known television professors to come to Diyarbakir and give lectures. And so it came to pass that even the most stubborn husbands—who at first tried everything to prevent their wives’ emancipation—became enthusiastic supporters. It is said that men sometimes remind their wives of their next KAMER appointment and encourage them to go again and pay close attention. After all, as is well known, a liberated clitoris benefits both partners.
You sit in the han and look at the men smiling contentedly before you, their heads wrapped in traditional scarves of bright purple, and wonder: Is this an unsuspecting guest or a supporter of the feminist movement, here in the far east of Turkey?
The article was originally published on July 18, 2013, as part of the “Turkish Days” series on Zeit Online.
Book recommendation:
Feminism Under a State of Emergency (OHAL’DE FEMİNİZM)
Nebahat Akkoç Tells Her Story (Nebahat Akkoç Anlatıyor)
By Ceren Belge
Publisher: Ayizi Kitap
2012, 240 pages
