Turkey. Caught between two worlds

Date: 29/11/05

A small victory for gay Turks

THERE was a sense of deja vu last month when the Ankara governor's office told prosecutors to ban KAOS-GL, a gay-rights association, for promoting "immoral" activity. After the prosecution of Turkey's famous novelist, Orhan Pamuk, liberals saw the news as yet another sign of reactionaries at large. In fact, the anti-gay move probably began not with homophobic bureaucrats, but with ultra-nationalists sabotaging Turkey's ties with the European Union.

They failed. Talks with the EU began as planned on October 3rd. Ten days later, it was announced that no charges would be filed against the gay group. Citing the European Convention on Human Rights, a prosecutor, Kursat Kayral, said that being homosexual did not mean a person was immoral. "Those who study morality", he added, "would all agree that the most precious right for human beings is the right to exercise their free will." This was the first time officialdom had ruled in favour of gay rights: new ground not only for Turkey, but for the Muslim world.

"We are delighted," said Ali Erol, a founder of KAOS-GL. Set up in 1994 as a support group for gays and lesbians, it was only in July that KAOS-GL sought recognition as an association. Why so long? Mr Erol's reply sums up the problem faced by gays and other minorities in Turkey. "As long as we did not publicly assert our identity, or seek protection of rights, we were left alone. When we sought legitimacy, they tried shutting us down."

Many gay Turks agree that despite the social pressures they face, their lot is not bad compared with that of gays in other Muslim countries where penalties range from jail to death. No Turkish law bans same-sex relations. This tolerance dates back to the Ottoman era when sultans would bring winsome boys on military campaigns. A gay culture, captured in miniatures and poetry, flourished in public baths and the harem.

In the 19th century, as Turkey began aping the West, attitudes hardened. After the founding of the modern republic, in 1923, the state insisted more strongly on conventional family life. When the army took over in 1980, it crushed "deviance": transvestites were jailed, and a trans-sexual singer, Bulent Ersoy, tried to kill herself after failing to be recognised as a woman.

Today Ms Ersoy carries a pink identity card issued to women. Gay clubs have mushroomed in cities like Ankara, Izmir and Istanbul, where your correspondent spotted a transvestite wearing an Islamic headscarf. Cross-dressing show hosts are a staple of Turkish TV. Meanwhile, thanks to the internet, gays in the conservative east can make contacts in the liberal west.

But gay life is largely hidden, especially in the workplace, where homosexuals fear for their jobs. Groups want changes to the penal code, banning discrimination on the ground of sexual preference. They cite the army, where homosexuality is seen as a "psychological disease" - and officers found "guilty" are disgraced and court-martialled.

For the mild Islamists now in power, gay rights could be a sticking-point in relations with EU. With Islam deeply opposed to homosexuality, can they risk alienating conservative voters and pass pro-gay legislation? "Absolutely not," said a spokesman for the ruling Justice and Development Party. "We will never endorse an openly homosexual candidate."