Prison literature has a strong presence in Turkey, as many intellectuals and poets have spent years in its infamous prisons. In recent years, this literature has been “enriched” with Pastor Brunson’s God's Hostage: A True Story of Persecution, Imprisonment, and Perseverance and Ahmet Altan’s I Will Never See the World Again: The Memoir of an Imprisoned Writer. Both were imprisoned after the coup attempt in 2016. Although Altan wrote his book in Turkish, he couldn’t publish it in Turkey due to political repression, and it was first published abroad in English and other Western languages. Another memoir has recently joined this genre: Silivri Postası (or The Silivri Post). The book provides an account of the imprisonment of leading Turkish political scientist and columnist Mümtaz’er Türköne between 2016 and 2020.
An intellectual is always a rarity, even more so in Turkey’s nationalist movement. Türköne, a prolific academic, has become one of the leading nationalist intellectuals in Turkey. His association with the Nationalist Action Party (MHP) dates back to the 1970s. His older brother was assassinated in 1979 for being in the nationalist camp, and Türköne himself was imprisoned for two years after the 1980 coup due to his affiliation with the MHP. He began his career at Gazi University, thanks to a reference from Devlet Bahçeli, the current leader of the MHP. They spent time together, engaging in political discussions at Gazi University, where Bahçeli worked as an academic. Later, Türköne developed ties with political Islamists, especially in the early years of the AKP government.
A Dual Narrative: Political Analysis and Prison Reflections
Silivri Postası can be divided into two main parts. The first part covers Türköne’s analysis of Turkey’s political transformation over the past 20 years, particularly the aftermath of the July 15, 2016 coup attempt. The second part is his prison journal, documenting his daily routine, encounters with prisoners from various political and social backgrounds, personal reflections, political analyses, and thoughts on the books he read. This honest testimony offers valuable insights into Turkey’s recent political history.
Unlike many pro-government and Eurasianist commentators, Türköne argues that underground organizations, such as Ergenekon, were a reality in Turkey. He questions how so many political assassinations have remained unsolved. Two explanations come to mind, he reasons: either Turkey’s intelligence, police, and other government apparatus were utterly incompetent in solving these crimes, or these crimes were committed under the guidance of government officials.
What was the nature of the incidents on July 15? A genuine coup attempt or a false-flag operation? According to Türköne, a junta within the military saw an opportunity and attempted to carry out a real coup. Nevertheless, based on his personal encounters with the officers actively involved in the coup, he stresses that none of them were Gulenists, except perhaps one or two who tried to endure prison through prayer. He also highlights that of the 132 generals purged within days after the coup attempt, none were tried as members of the Gulen movement. On the other hand, some police officers who protected President Erdoğan that night—and even some officers later decorated by the government for suppressing the coup—were eventually found to be Gulenists. Türköne also references reports from several Western intelligence services, including those in the US, Germany and the UK, suggesting that Gulenists were not behind the coup attempt.
Türköne argues that politics is ultimately about power, and that Erdoğan seized this opportunity to concentrate power by dismantling Turkey’s institutions. He contends that the Turkish presidential system, which has weakened the separation of powers, is neither the local nor national model that officials claim it to be. The system, he asserts, is dysfunctional and cannot be restored without an independent judiciary.
Life in Silivri and Reflections on Two Coups
Türköne was arrested on July 27, 2016, due to his columns in the newspaper Zaman, and was transferred to Silivri Prison on the outskirts of Istanbul. Silivri still holds the Guinness World Record as the world’s largest prison, housing 22,781 inmates. Like Sincan Prison in Ankara, which is only slightly smaller, thousands of Silivri’s inmates are political prisoners arrested after the 2016 coup attempt. These massive prison complexes function as modern-day gulags, where thousands of guards, police, gendarmerie, prison staff, and their families live and work.
Through Türköne’s eyes, we encounter journalists from opposing political backgrounds—Kemalists, leftists, Gulenists, etc.—all sharing the same fate. Türköne notes that around 150 journalists were imprisoned at that time. In many cases, judges who ruled in favor of these journalists, accepting the premise that journalism is not a crime, were immediately suspended. Later on, Türköne’s frustration grew as judges simply ignore rulings from the Turkish Supreme Court and the European Court of Human Rights, which demanded their release. Eight years after the coup, at least 54 journalists still languish in Turkish prisons, according to the European Commission’s Turkey 2024 report.
Growing increasingly desperate with the judicial process, Türköne came to expect that foreign pressure, especially from the West, might help secure the release of journalists and lead to a normalization of politics in Turkey. As a staunch nationalist, he resented that Turkey’s democratic hopes seemed to rely on Western intervention—a dependency dating back to the 19th century. But he was wrong again and again; the government did not yield to any demands for democracy and freedom.
One of the interesting observations he makes is his comparison of prison conditions following the coups of 1980 and 2016. He spent two years in prison after the first coup and was imprisoned for four years after the latter. He notes that conditions after the first coup were worse, as he endured daily beatings throughout his two-year confinement. In that regard, he ironically remarks that Turkey has “made a lot of progress” in accommodating political prisoners.
The memoir is also replete with anecdotes about Türköne’s cellmates who were civil servants, officers, activists, or ordinary citizens swept up in the purges. Many, he notes, were dedicated citizens and family members. Some, however, did not survive their imprisonment, such as a young lawyer jailed for refusing to stand before a prosecutor.
His Release
The author was released in 2020 after MHP leader Bahçeli tweeted, demanding that the wrongs against Türköne be corrected as soon as possible. As Türköne walked through the prison gates, the MHP’s Silivri county leader was waiting for him. He immediately connected him to Bahçeli by phone. Türköne acknowledges that his release was solely due to Bahçeli’s personal intervention. He insists he was imprisoned without cause, adding that tens of thousands behind the bars were also innocent.
Silivri became so notorious as a symbol of injustice that in 2022, the county of Silivri, where the prison is located, petitioned the Ministry of Justice to change its name, arguing it tarnished the county's reputation. The Ministry agreed, and it is now called Marmara Prison. The reputation of Silivri is finally “restored.”
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