In Turkey there are hectic days.
Constant demonstrations, violent repression by the authorities, a country in deep catharsis of accumulated tensions and poorly assimilated processes of change.
Today, the political regime, Erdogan's authoritarianism and the betrayal of Atatürk's magnificent dream of a strong, secular Turkey, endowed with a modernity capable of dialogue between West and East, fully assuming the role of a bridge between Europe and Asia, all due to an apparently growing imposition of fundamentalist Islamism.
I have no intention of dwelling on the fracturing Turkish issues, whether at the political, religious or football level. There, as here, there are subjects whose discussion is, pure and simply touchy. The small big differences lie in Turkish impetuosity, sometimes gaining traces of fury, and in the inability to distinguish the 3 taboos, such is not the intensity with which they are lived.
However, as a declaration of interests, I confess my fascination for Istanbul. It is a city that, when visiting, makes us realize how much we miss a lively city, not yet hijacked by megalomaniac shopping centers or normalized by large multinationals, where commerce is based on proximity and identity and life takes place on the street. It is not only alive, it is open, a space for commercial and cultural exchange, embodying the spirit of the Bosphorus. However, it is quite certain that Turkey should not be taken as its most emblematic city, as right next door, Anatolia reveals a much more closed country, and a much more conservative society...
In any case, to better understand this nation (if it is impossible to visit it, of course), and giving rise to the little Professor Marcelo in me, I recommend reading “Birds without Wings”, by Louis de Bernières.
Regardless of structural issues, I am thinking only of a garden.
In the garden that originated everything.
I have already had the privilege of visiting Istanbul, specifically Gezi Park. It is a garden, with about 6 hectares, next to a nerve center for the city's transport dynamics, Taksim Square, where you can take all forms of public transport, where all life goes by, where there is the historic Atatürk Cultural Center, the Monument to the Republic and from where, for example, the vibrant street Istiklal.
Formally and technically, it has no streak of genius, no creative exuberance, no iconic traits.
It presents, on the other hand, the effectiveness of simple things.
It is a space fully experienced by the population, which enjoys the most varied forms, including deep naps, on lawns shaded by leafy trees, where the plane trees that dominate it guarantee, in the Turkish summer, a good couple of degrees centigrade of freshness additional.
Basically, it is a symbolic space for social and civic sharing, in a city that highly values the enjoyment of its outdoor spaces.
Faced with the threat of destruction of the park, the square and the cultural centre, for the construction of a mosque and a shopping centre, the population rose up and, in an act of the purest citizenship, united to protest against the sacrifice of a space they understand as theirs. It is the refusal to exchange a civic symbol for religious and economic symbols. It is the manifestation of a choice for community values.
It is true that nothing is as simple as it appears, that there are many nuances to consider, and that from that point on, and given the reaction of the authorities to this exercise of citizenship, a whole Pandora's box was opened around political issues and religious.
However, the power of civic unrest is evident – to the point that the impossible has happened, and supporters of Istanbul's three biggest neighborhood clubs (Galatasaray, Besiktas and Fenerbahçe are just that) rallied around this cause – as well as the community dimension and the democratic expression that the outdoor spaces symbolize is demonstrated. But only where a real civic culture exists.
As Rod Stewart says in his song “Young Turks”: Be free tonight.
For your gardens, whatever they are.
In Portugal, few want to know about them.
In Turkey a revolution practically starts because of one.
Author Gonçalo Gomes is a landscape architect, president of the Algarve Regional Section of the Portuguese Association of Landscape Architects (APAP)
(and writes according to the old Spelling Agreement)
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