A debate has taken off…
Confusion is at an all-time high, and everyone has their own definition of freedom: freedom of expression, freedom of the press, freedom of thought…
Yet the answer to this confusion is contained in the definition of freedom of expression in the European Convention on Human Rights. Before getting to that, I must say that failing to defend freedoms, failing to stand up for them, and not calling restrictions “wrong” can be described as a lapse of reason. Freedom of expression is indispensable to the existence of pluralism, tolerance and openness—the fundamental elements of a democratic society.
And yet it is not exempt from restrictions. The balance is such that exercising your freedom of expression without limits can entail an attack on the freedoms and rights of others. It can also create problems for you. Fevzi Tanpınar, who wrote about this subject the other day, discussed a case heard in France and gave an example of the circumstances in which freedom of expression can be restricted. Here is the news report on the case in question: “The Paris Court ruled that comments by Algerian-born Jewish journalist Eric Zemmour, a columnist for Le Parisien Newspaper, ‘exceeded the limits of freedom of expression.’ Taking part in a debate on the Canal Plus television channel, the journalist said, ‘Why does the police stop Black people and Arabs so often? Because most of the drug dealers are Arab and Black. That’s a fact.’ The court fined the journalist 2,000 euros for these remarks. British writer David Irving and German Ernst Zündel had previously been tried in Europe on charges of racism and convicted.”
There is no doubt that France’s sensitivity on this issue stems from the French Revolution of 1789. In the wake of the French Revolution, freedom of expression developed and took its present form. That form is set out in the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) as follows: “Everyone has the right to freedom of expression. This right includes freedom to hold opinions and to receive and impart information and ideas without interference by public authority and regardless of frontiers. This Article shall not prevent States from requiring the licensing of broadcasting, television or cinema enterprises. The exercise of these freedoms, since it carries with it duties and responsibilities, may be subject to such formalities, conditions, restrictions or penalties as are prescribed by law and are necessary in a democratic society, in the interests of national security, territorial integrity or public safety, for the prevention of disorder or crime, for the protection of health or morals, for the protection of the reputation or rights of others, for preventing the disclosure of information received in confidence, or for maintaining the authority and impartiality of the judiciary.”
The point at issue here, and the one we need to consider carefully, is perfectly clear. If you marginalize members of your society through racist rhetoric, you undermine the preservation of order and pave the way for crime, as the ECHR also states. If you do this knowingly and for precisely that purpose, you are a provocateur. Being in the media is, quite literally, nourishment for you. The more you appear in the media, the closer you get to your goal of provocation. In doing so, you exploit freedom of expression, manage to make the word “insolence” seem inadequate, and wander from place to place like a plankton-brained individual.
The important thing at this point is to expose you. And now you are in plain sight. The second important thing is to prevent you from appearing in the media. My colleagues have a great deal to do here. What needs to be done is to prevent this by refusing to give space to racist rhetoric that exploits freedom of expression and comes from plankton brains, as the ECHR Convention clearly sets out. I hope my dear colleagues will act with this awareness. He is human too! ---3.04.2011 Our jackal of a gentleman had found just the setting he wanted that day, and, delighted at having said whatever came into his head, was watching the moon late into the night with a glass of whisky in his hand. He thought about what he had done that day and felt proud of himself. In fact, this pride went way back. Years ago, he had worked every angle and found himself a “respectable” place in society. He deserved it wholeheartedly. After all, it had taken years to get there. He had made it by sucking up to the bigwigs. But never mind, he was here now; nothing else mattered…
Now, though, our jackal of a gentleman had different bigwigs to serve… These ones were different. They wanted things that were out of the question, and they wanted them immediately… Our jackal of a gentleman was doing everything he could… He would succeed this time too… He knew it: “I’m close. I’ll make it,” he said, taking another sip of the whisky he had just bought in Brussels…
The moon’s beauty accompanied his whisky and eased the day’s fatigue. But it was very late; he needed to sleep… After all, there were other things to do in the morning: meet with one or two foreign officials, go South to present a report and exchange information, then make the necessary statements in the North… Suddenly our jackal of a gentleman remembered the statement he was going to make: Ah, those speeches of his… How they watched him, mouths agape, as he spoke… He bellowed like a king, and everyone listened. And those journalists—they asked exactly the questions he wanted. How he managed to make people angry. It was as if other people’s anger turned into his happiness; the more he thought about it, the happier he became, and he burst into laughter as if he were watching a Şener Şen film. That was the very reason he loved spending these hours alone at home… Because he could behave freely… “It’s late,” he said to himself… That thought pulled him away from his laughter and musings…
He looked proudly at the furnishings in his home, a place far grander than anything he could have imagined as a child. He walked over the rug he had brought from the South and slowly climbed the stairs, whose marble he had also brought from the South, when he suddenly noticed a flaw in the plaster on one of the steps. He was not usually a brave man, but emboldened by alcohol, he began cursing the “illegal” workers who had built his house… I paid so much money, I “worked!” and struggled for years, sold properties left and not left by the Greeks—how could they do this to me? And so on… Suddenly he came to his senses, and this time he began getting angry with himself. “Well,” our jackal of a gentleman muttered to himself, “that’s what happens when you cut corners and hire illegal workers”…
He went into the bedroom…
He stretched out on his spacious bed…
He was alone with his God…
At that moment he thought of our unemployed young people, of the words he had spoken to “defend” them, and of what he himself had done to get his house cheaply. Saying he wanted a little peace, he wrapped himself tightly in the sheet set he had bought from the South. Then he thought of local production. How could a society that did not consume its own products own its economy and govern itself? he began to wonder… He knew this was the truth. “Forget it, focus on your goal,” he told himself and tried to sleep. But these thoughts—ah, these thoughts…
Our jackal of a gentleman, who was generally shameless, felt no shame again, but his heart did ache a little; after all, “he was human too!”
And it was such heartache that, as every night, he once again drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Happy Sunday…
Pay attention to your surroundings, keep them clean, and please be respectful in traffic…