For the tiny Christian population in the Mideast nation of Turkey, the past year has been one of apprehension. Their concern is due to a rash of arrests that broke out last year against both Turkish and expatriate believers across the country, 99 percent of whose 54 million people subscribe to Islam, most of them nominally. Apprehension was especially great among the approximately 200 believers in Turkey who are converts from Islam.
The Turkish constitution officially guarantees freedom of religion; for 60 years separation of state from organized religion has been enforced. But Christians there must contend with a history that includes the Crusades, six centuries of Islamic rule under the Ottoman sultans, and various bitter conflicts between Muslims and ethnic Christian groups, such as the Greeks and Armenians. Thus, Turks who convert to Christianity typically declare their new faith cautiously, if at all.
Although civil authorities have consistently discouraged religious proselytizing, no national or foreign Christian has been convicted for illegal religious activities in more than three decades. Believers were therefore unsure how to interpret the events of last year.
Midnight Raids
The troubles began in February 1988 with the arrest of German businessman Stefan Pilz and his two business partners, both Turkish converts, in the Black Sea coast city of Samsun. Formal charges were not filed for 82 days.
Within two weeks of these arrests came the beginning of a sweep of midnight house raids and interrogations of Christians across the country. Among those arrested or interrogated were a university student, a government employee, a middle-aged convert who had pastored a small congregation for 30 years, and six members of a Protestant fellowship in the Aegean port city of Izmir, two Americans and four Turks.
Late last March came the largest pickup of all: five Turks and seven expatriate Christians in the capital city of Ankara. The incident apparently attracted enough international press coverage to halt the interrogations for a month, but they resumed by the end of April with the weekend detention of two foreign families who had come to Turkey to teach English.
The multiple investigations produced a spate of court hearings, which culminated in four formal trials in either of Turkey’s criminal or national-security courts. The specific charges varied, but all defendants were accused of either “subverting the nation’s secular principles for their own religious ends” or violating a law forbidding the use of religious propaganda for personal or political gain.
Vindication For Christians
Because defendants in the Ankara case were citizens of Great Britain, the United States, Sweden, or South Korea, it garnered the most publicity abroad. The case ended in July when the public prosecutor declined to press charges.
In September, a judge delivered his written acquittal of the defendants. But within weeks there was yet another raid of Christians in Ankara, something observers found puzzling. “I could hardly believe we were being arrested again,” said American Steve Wibberley, who was incarcerated late one night after a raid on the wedding celebration of two Turkish converts.
It was seven days before Wibberley, seven Turks, and two Britons were released; their cases were eventually dismissed. According to a source in Ankara, police had planned to hold the three for 15 days to protest the previous court ruling in the Christians’ favor. (Turkish law provides no habeas corpus rights during the first 15 days of detention.) But Britain applied diplomatic pressure, leading the Turkish Foreign Ministry to intervene.
Taking The Offensive
Some of the Christians detained for questioning in the past year have been believers for as long as ten years. Others had made professions of faith within months of their being arrested. Said one of the newer believers who was arrested, “Turkey is a democratic country, and our constitution promises us freedom of religion. So I really can’t understand why we are being subjected to this kind of treatment since the courts have agreed that we are not in any way violating the law when we believe and follow the Christian faith.”
Another Christian, a young, well-educated businessman who was tried and acquitted in Izmir, said, “I have been confident all along that our courts, right down to the public prosecutors themselves, were going to uphold constitutional freedom of religion in Turkey.” But he was disappointed that Turkish newspapers refused to print an advertisement he submitted to announce his official acquittal. “They have smeared us with negative and inaccurate coverage during the trial proceedings,” he complained, “and now they refuse to print even a paid ad announcing our vindication.”
Some Christians who were arrested have opened civil cases to change their official identification cards from “Muslim” to “Protestant,” thus declaring their faith publicly. Well aware that the European Parliament is making Turkey’s improved human-rights record part of the price for Turkey’s bid for full membership in the European Economic Community, some Turkish Christians apparently sense the time is ripe to test their religious rights in Turkish society, now that these rights have been clarified by Turkish courts.
Some of the emerging leaders within the country’s small body of indigenous believers believe such a move will help Christians shed the “underground church” image that now prevails and claim their legal right to establish an official, government-recognized Turkish Protestant Church.
“That will take some time,” said one leader, “and it won’t automatically exempt us from continued suspicion and arrests. But it will provide a legal framework for protecting our children and others who come to Christ after us. And eventually, it should be a deterrent to the stand-off we now experience with both the press and the police.”
By Barbara G. Baker, in Istanbul, Turkey.
