An earthquake with a magnitude of 7.8 hit southeastern Turkey and northern Syria overnight. Its epicenter is close to Gaziantep — the Unesco City of Creative Gastronomy, famous for its variety of dishes and sweet pistachio cakes, home to the world’s largest mosaic museum with an impressive collection from the ancient settlement of Zeugma. The tremors were so powerful that they were picked up by seismometers around the world. By the time it was over, it had flattened an entire apartment block, torn up the road and trapped thousands of people in piles of concrete.
Nine hours later, a second strong earthquake hit the same area, centered near the town of Kahramanmaraş. At 7.5 magnitude, it was almost as traumatic as the first. In winter, people are homeless and powerless, without food and water. Even those who were pulled from under the rubble at the beginning of the tragedy faced the possibility of freezing to death. This is a natural disaster of massive proportions. But what causes so much death and suffering is not nature itself. It is a man-made system of inequality and corruption.
I was in Istanbul on August 17, 1999 when the 7.6 magnitude İzmit earthquake hit. I will never forget waking up to find all the buildings swaying like a raft in a storm, sounding from below the ground when the walls move, constantly cave in. About 18,000 people died that night.
After that, when we take part of the physical and emotional wreckage, the main promise is made to people. The authority gave a heartwarming speech about how stricter building regulations are. It’s true that regulations are printed, but everything is on paper, never fully implemented. It’s all empty words. Cracks were glossed over, fissures were covered with “make-up”, and damaged buildings were reused. Those who criticize are called “traitors”.
The sad fact is that many buildings in my homeland are not suitable. Entire city blocks have been destroyed in this earthquake; for more profit, personal favors and nepotism, life is wasted. The government will now blame individual contractors, and many are directly responsible for the disaster, but the authorities cannot deal with it easily. Official permission was given where they were never given. Not only residential buildings collapsed in what experts call “pancake collapses”, but also municipal buildings, including hospitals that were opened in large numbers.
Turkey has a great variety of scientists and engineers, and many of them are asking the officials to pay attention to the impending danger, but their voices are never heard by the authorities. Just the opposite: they have been accused of “fear-mongering”.
The ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) periodically grants “construction amnesty” to buildings that blatantly violate earthquake regulations. Up to 75,000 buildings were granted amnesty in the earthquake zone alone, according to Pelin Pınar Giritlioğlu, the Istanbul head of the Turkish Union of Engineers and Architects. Geologist Celâl Şengör rightly said that issuing such a blanket amnesty in a country disturbed by fault lines is nothing but a crime. It is ironic that the government will grant another amnesty just days before the disaster. They never learn from the hardships and mistakes of the past. He never let go of his hubris. Greed and cronyism have become the dominant guidelines.
After the earthquake in 1999, the state imposed a tax whose proceeds should be used for the next emergency. But when asked about the money in 2020, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan wondered how to spend it: [funds] about what is needed,” he told reporters. There is no transparency, only systemic censorship and suppression of information.
There is a correlation between the lack of democracy in a country and the level of damage left behind by natural disasters. In a functioning democracy, those in power can be held accountable, a system of checks and balances will control spending and the public will be informed about every step. Without democracy, there will be human suffering.
The country has also failed to implement systemic emergency rescue efforts quickly. In many parts of the disaster zone, people are left alone, trying to save their loved ones with their bare hands, digging through the rubble with whatever they can. Some people can hear the sounds of the rubble and experience the pain and trauma of not being able to help family and friends. A father sat for hours holding his dead daughter’s hand, only the arm was visible on the concrete. For a long time no official help came to cities such as Hatay. People trapped in the demolished building sent tweets giving their location, asking for help. It’s great that the next day access to Twitter is blocked, at a time when every minute is important to save lives.
Very angry, very sad. Whether we are in Turkey or through the diaspora, we oscillate between grief and anger. One minute we are crying uncontrollably, the next burning with rage, consumed by brokenness. The earthquake has broken something in the collective psyche.
Meanwhile, Erdoğan is doing what he always does: attacking his critics and silencing their voices. In the name of “national unity” we are expected to be calm and peaceful, shut our mouths and be grateful. Erdoğan admitted that there were “shortcomings” in the government’s response, but pointed to the weather, adding that it was impossible to prepare for a disaster of this scale, which was not true. An earthquake of this magnitude would cause massive damage anywhere in the world, but not on such a horrific scale if the buildings were built to code and rescue efforts were properly coordinated.
This means that many people in Turkey do not trust the government and its politicized institutions. The most reliable organizations for rescue efforts are civil society-based initiatives, such as AKUT Search and Rescue Association and, especially, AHBAP, an NGO that has become a beacon of hope for countless people.
There is a ray of light in the midst of darkness. Turkish people will never forget the rescue teams that rushed from all over the world to save lives. From Mexico to Spain to England to Hungary to Israel and Armenia and even the war-torn Ukraine. Greece was one of the first to send aid. Greek TV channels start their news bulletins with songs that are popular on both sides of the Aegean. I don’t know who can watch it without crying. On a pair of gloves sent from Greece along with essential equipment was a handwritten note in Greek and Turkish: “I wish you a speedy recovery, neighbors — neighborhood.”
It is also important to note that the dire situation in Syria has not received enough attention in the world media. In many areas access remains limited. This is an area with many refugees, an area that has experienced poverty, conflict and war. Both Turkey and Syria need urgent help. Let us also remember that during disasters, women and children are disproportionately affected. We need to create a safe place for them, and especially for children who have lost their parents. As I write this piece, the death toll is over 19,000 and the shocking reality is that the real number will be much higher.
There are also miracles. Beautiful, wide-eyed children pulled from under the rubble, people who after being rescued hugged each rescuer, babies born under the rubble in the Kurdish region, their umbilical cord still attached to their dead mother. There is an extraordinary period of endurance.
At Lord of the Flies, writer William Golding emphasizes that humans are fierce and selfish by nature, and in times of calamity this will become all the more apparent. But the response to this terrible earthquake has been quite the opposite – a great wave of solidarity and empathy in the region and beyond. Humans have behaved more according to the book of the Dutch historian Rutger Bregman humanproved himself totally capable of goodness and altruism.
However, the earthquake and its painful aftermath also proved Golding right. His description of the characteristics of a person who is self-possessed and self-serving fits perfectly with the political situation and the people in power in my homeland, Turkey.
Elif Shafak is an award-winning Turkish novelist based in London
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