I shot this about six months ago in downtown Ankara. It was only two weeks after I had gotten back home. This was my first visit in four years. One hell of a start I had.
All this had started as some small protest by an environmental group against the government that wanted to cut quite a few trees at one of the last few green areas in the heart of Istanbul. After the harsh response from the police force, everything quickly turned into a country wide anti-government riot, which lasted about a month. This is basically the sum of what was going on. There are quite a few articles written on those or on following days for further reading.
It was a shock to me. I had barely gotten over the jetlag by the time I found myself running around with my camera. This was the first time I was in such a situation as a photojournalist.
For quite a few of us, photojournalists, the thrill of this job, the adrenaline, is one of the major motives that keep us going. And there I was in the middle of it.
I shot this photograph on the first day of Ankara protests. Not sure why, but I had decided it would be better if I tag along with the protestors, who were simply throwing pieces of rocks at the cops, who were obviously armed. It was probably the mantra "the closer the better" that is buried in my photographer mind that kept me right next to these guys. Plus the cops were quite intimidating to approach and I did not know any other journalists here at the time.
The first day was interesting especially because of one specific inner battle I had. Quite a few times, i had found myself chanting along with the protestors. Because this was just not some country that I had landed to take pictures. What was being protested was and is deeply affecting my life, as well. I was as frustrated as anyone there.
By the end of the first day, I managed to put my journalist hat on, leaving my citizen persona aside. What was going on was important for me as a journalist, for me as Pinar from Turkey and for everyone who lives in this country. So I had to document it.
This man was screaming at the officer that this was not Israel. This was Ankara. He had the right to express himself. A basic human right, freedom of speech... Alas this is also Turkey. Freedom of speech, freedom of press... Don't even know what to say about those.
This man was carried to an ambulance after being hit by a pepper gas canister on his face. When this happened, I was right by the police officer who fired at him. This man was at one end of a short street and the police force was on the other end. I recall seeing him raising his hands, showing that he was not armed and asking the police not to shoot. Then he fell. Then the officer, who took aim at him, turned around and said "I did it!" With joy... I was petrified with what I had just witnessed. I keep replaying this moment in my head and trying to make sense of it. But I don't know if I will ever be able to fathom such human cruelty.
Looking back now, it all seems like a dream that lasted more than anyone in it wished for. Considering the current political atmosphere here, it is hard to tell what these protests led to. It is even harder when you are not necessarily the outsider of such circumstances.
