Compared to its Muslim neighbors, Turkey can seem like an oasis of tolerance. While legal protections for members of the LGBT community are virtually non-existent, Turkey also has a firmly established history of individual liberties that prevents, say, public hangings and other acts of barbarism to be directed toward members of the sexual minority. But for 20-somethings Ekin Keser and Emrullah Tüzün, their recent public ‘marriage,’ more a statement of civil disobedience than anything else (Turkey does not recognize any unions between same-sex couples), has engendered death threats, isolation from their families and economic hardship.
In a report filed with AlMonitor.com, Semih Idiz charts the sharp downward trajectory of events that have followed these two young lovers since they exchanged their vows publicly in early September. The two met in Istanbul, the country’s economic, cultural and historical center, three years ago. Keser, who is a self-identified Arab, recounts their beginnings. “We showed our emotions. We touched each other, hugged each other, and never held back from walking hand in hand,” he said. “[My] immediate family members are aware of [my] sexual orientation and have accepted it because they did not think it was a long-term situation.” Keser added, “Other relatives were not so tolerant, with some openly making death threats.” He said that although Tüzün’s family took longer to come to terms with his situation, there was, in the end, less animosity among his relatives. (Tüzün is Kurdish.)
But shortly after the two lovers said their vows during a small, private affair on a boat, word leaked out from the press and things rapidly spiraled out of control. “Our landlord told us to vacate the house we lived in. I was working as a waiter in Kadikoy [a district of Istanbul] and was fired. Because he is a university student, Ekin is not working. We ended up without a source of income and in a very difficult situation,” Tüzün said. Keser said he was also receiving threats over social media and could not go to the university to attend classes. “I am originally from Antakya. I am accused of giving Antakya a bad name and am getting death threats because of this. My family knew I was gay, but they reacted very angrily to my getting married,” said Keser. He said they had gotten married to break down taboos and that now all they wanted was for their families and others to leave them alone.
“These two young men have been living together for some time. They tried to bring some kind of legitimacy to their relationship, according to their own understanding, through a wedding ceremony that was a first for Turkey. But their families, who are under religious, political, social and cultural influences, opposed this,” explains Rozerin Seda Kip, a human rights lawyer and member of the Istanbul Bar Association, no stranger to death threats herself as one who has defending members of the LGBT community.
Ironically, the article notes, many sexual minorities emigrate to Turkey from other Islamic countries because it is seen as a far safer place to live than their own countries. “At least they have a voice in Turkey through various support groups and magazines. We also have a gay Pride week, which is attended by LGBT members as far afield as Azerbaijan, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Iran and the Arab world,” Kip said.
But for Keser and Tüzün, two young men in love, their reality today seems very uncertain.
