Eren Keskin
The murder of 8-year-old Narin Güran in Amed had a huge impact on society. Everyone started interpreting the event from their own viewpoint. Some even turned it into a tabloid story. However, what is crucial here is that entrenched militaristic, feudal, and patriarchal values based on gender led to the killing of a child. The real issue that needs to be discussed is the internalised perception underlying this incident.
Sadly, Narin Güran is neither the first nor the last girl to be murdered for this reason… Unfortunately, I have witnessed and encountered many similar cases throughout my 30-year career.
It was two years ago when a doctor friend from Diyarbakır called me and explained that her niece had been sexually abused by her brother-in-law. Her niece was a 12-year-old girl, and we immediately began to address the situation. We collected medical reports and other evidence confirming the abuse, filed a criminal complaint, and a case was initiated against the abuser. The brother-in-law was arrested. After these events, the pressure on the family intensified significantly. First, they were offered money, and later, the threats began.
I clearly remember the first day we attended the trial. Opposite us sat a group of people who, I was certain, were armed, glaring at us with hostility. The aunt, who is a doctor, told me how powerful the opposing side was, how close they were to the state, that they had weapons caches, and how the family was terrified. She said they might withdraw from the case at any moment, but she was doing everything she could to stop them. Initially, I found it difficult to grasp—how could such an event or attitude exist in Diyarbakır? However, my friend was very frightened about the situation, even saying that her niece’s life was in danger.
We continued with the case, but we never informed the public. The family was afraid, and it wasn’t just fear; deeply ingrained social values prevented them from making the incident public, from their perspective. Eventually, the case concluded, and the abuser was released, receiving a very minimal sentence, right at the lowest limit. Of course, we continued to follow the case. We took it to appeal, and the legal proceedings are ongoing within the domestic system.
After the Narin case occurred, the doctor aunt came to my office a few days ago. She had just returned from Diyarbakır. “Do you understand now why I was so scared, why I was so worried, Ms. Eren? The person who abused my niece is also a relative of this family—Narin Güran’s family. I told you back then how powerful this family was, that they had weapons caches, that the state protected them, and that’s why they were so confident,” she said. She was crying as she recounted all of this. “What if they had done something to my niece too? What if my niece had been killed too? I keep thinking about this now, and it affects me even more,” she said.
At that moment, I truly understood the severity of the situation. So, it turns out that she was still right to be this worried about her niece and to fear the other side this much.
Even though it’s not quite the same, due to the values underlying the incident, I want to share another very similar story.
It was again six months ago. A friend of ours, the representative of the Human Rights Association (İHD) in Rize, called me and told me about a young woman who had experienced a severe sexual assault by a doctor at a state hospital in Rize. The woman had contacted our friend and handed over a copy of her statement to them. When I read the statement, I was once again shaken by the enormity and horror of the event. The doctor had locked the door and sexually assaulted the woman. He had prevented her from screaming and, having taken what he considered all necessary precautions, carried out the assault in his office. The woman was determined to fight and pursue legal action. When my friend asked whether she would grant me power of attorney, the woman gave it to us without hesitation, and we began following up on the case. In the meantime, the woman was resolutely determined to make the incident public, and frightening developments soon followed. A few days later, my representative friend called again, informing me that the Grey Wolves (a nationalist group) had visited the woman’s family home, telling them that the complaint shouldn’t be filed, that I was the lawyer for the PKK, how could they have given me power of attorney, that I was distorting the case, and that if such an incident came to light, their safety would be at risk. Initially, the brother who had supported his sister suddenly changed course and decided to persuade her to withdraw the complaint. Unfortunately, the woman, in tears, withdrew her complaint.
These two incidents, just like in the case of Narin Güran’s murder, are further proof of how deeply rooted this male-dominated, militaristic, and feudal mentality is across our region, particularly imposed by the state’s mindset. When we say that violence against women is political, we are expressing this truth. The perception created and internalised drives women and girls into a constant cycle of violence or death.
Every time such an incident occurs, it reminds us once again just how crucial the Istanbul Convention is. The key sentence in the convention, which I believe forms the essence of its understanding, is this: “No custom, no tradition, no moral code can justify violence against women.” This is the core of the matter.
In the case of Narin, as in the other abuse and sexual assault cases we’ve experienced, the truth behind covering up these incidents lies precisely here.
The gender perspective is imposed on us, along with dominant masculinity and the notion of the sacred family. It is only when we start discussing these freely that we, as women, will be free. There is a women’s movement striving for this, working to make it happen, and continuing the fight despite all forms of oppression. And thankfully, it exists.
Eren Keskin is a lawyer and co-chair of the Human Rights Association (İHD) in Turkey. She has been involved in the human rights struggle for decades in Turkey, and she faces several lawsuits due to her activism, including a sentence of 26 years in prison due to the Özgür Gündem newspaper case and trial.
