The Gezi Park protests emerged as a reaction against the construction of a shopping mall near the Taksim Square, against privatisation of public space in the heart of Istanbul. It spread out to all over Turkey as a reflection of the struggle against the oppressive state. Approximately 2,5 million people participated across the country, except for two cities in which no demonstrations occurred. From the early days on, I joined in the protest in various forms I could, such as sit-ins, supporting people running from the police violence and citizen journalism. It started as an occupation of the park by a few activists and following the escalation of police violence on 31 May(Wikipedia, 2023), the protest embarked on widespread participation. The public park, on which the shopping mall was planned, was occupied by hundreds of people in a self-organised manner while its surroundings was barricaded by thousands blocking the police’s entry to the park. Most people would go to the protest after work, then go home to sleep late in the night and continue their daily jobs the next morning, while the campers would stay in the park, sometimes rotationally.
During some weeks until the encampment was destroyed by the police, solidarity was crucial against the police violence as well for the future of the park we wanted to bring to life via discussions in open forums. From this concept of solidarity, the encampment in the park took shape spatially. Free speech stages, open kitchens, free medical support units, a shared library were set up, while some places were left clear of these functions and of tents to make room for wide forums(Herkes için Mimarlık, 2013). During the protests, people set up the park in the way they would like to use it in the future, with facilities that would support public life and generate solidarity(Akbulut, 2014). What was dreamed for the future of the park was realised in the here and now via self-appointed and self-organised forums and facilitation groups. Direct democracy processes and non-horizontal decision-making mechanisms were as important as the protest and occupation itself. During many conversations in open forums, people were explicit about correcting each other in order not to reproduce the oppressive or authoritarian governance structures that the protest itself was already fighting against(Fırat, 2014).
Even though it is not possible to name a specific architect for the temporary spatial organisation at Gezi Park during the summer of 2013, the incremental process of occupation is evident. During the first days, the occupation aimed only at bodily presence in the park to ensure that the trees not to be torn down; people camped in and around the zone where the heavy construction equipment had entered the park priorly. With the escalation of police violence, the occupation became a space of solidarity among the protestors and also people who didn’t bodily join the protests yet wanted to support the movement. In various phases of the protest, the park hosted tents-with their mobile feature could help the organisation of the space, such as moving to a different location if an opening is required for some specific functions-, a stage-set in the first days to gather people in the park and get some attention and then quickly taken away to gave space to more tents-, a first-aid space-located at an easily accessible corner towards the outer perimeter of the park to treat people who suffered from police violence-, a library-emerged during some weeks when police action deescalated during the day and people could spend some peaceful time in the park-, a kitchen-at the middle of the park receiving donations from people who wanted to support the movement-, an open microphone-made up of police barricades and located at a symbolic location where the police entered the park to take down trees-, a forum-which was mobile depending on the availability of a wide space for internal gatherings.
The self-organised protest and the park occupation proved successful and unsuccessful at the same time. The plan for the new shopping mall in the public park was revoked yet the oppressive government stayed in power. The police were never appropriately held responsible or punished for the dead or injured during the protests. After the police invasion of the park, and when the protest was dispersed, neighbourhood forums started to emerge. While these forums functioned almost as collective therapy sessions, no political movement or action remained after some months. Some people from these forums started cooperatives for community-supported agriculture practices or woman-made crafts(Güneş, 2023). Even though there was some optimism in the air about sowing seeds for the future, the overall political atmosphere of the country didn’t change for the better.
Learning from Gezi Park
Gezi was a temporal oasis in which subjectivities transformed from individualistic beings to a collective presence. This shift supported solidarity practices between strangers, and even with opposing political views shared the same horizon during the protest movement. Yet, all this atmosphere dispersed and slowly vanished when the park was reclaimed by the state. I learned the power of the collective and how fragile it can be in the face of violence.
It was excitingly fresh to see how people were sharing their ideals with the wider group in forums and how opposing views would co-exist together. They would agree to disagree on some ideological discussions. Yet when it came down to practical matters the solidarity would overcome and the collective would act as one. Taking initiatives and sharing responsibilities were happening in a self-organised way and it was working. I experienced that other forms of organising our societies are possible and can be experimented in the here and now.
Following the Gezi protests, people who joined the movement embarked on a nostalgic mood by mythologising the movement while the political atmosphere was becoming more suffocating. The repetitive motto of sowing seeds for the future felt like self-deceit, a procedure invented in order not to fall into pessimism. In the long run, the transformed subjectivities of the Gezi Park protests returned to their“normal”. The movement left no long-term political impact, as I see it. Also relying on the prevalent party politics was not an option for me, after seeing the power of self-organisation. This made me question the real impact of protesting and commoning and how it could generate a real change in our social systems.
Learning from Gezi Park