The tenth anniversary of July 15 turned into a sweeping propaganda campaign for the Erdoğan regime, with the state mobilizing virtually every communication resource at its disposal to reproduce a single official narrative. From government agencies and municipalities to universities and television channels, from drama series and documentaries to commercials and conferences, nearly every platform recirculated the same message.
The state did more than organize commemorative ceremonies. It also carried out a comprehensive communications strategy aimed at reshaping collective memory. Social media became the most visible arena of this effort. Thousands of accounts shared the same slogans; public officials, politicians, media organizations, and opinion leaders joined the same chorus, repeating virtually identical phrases.
Yet it was not merely the language of the government that was striking.
What was truly remarkable was the reemergence of certain figures who had remained silent for a long time, only to make their own contributions to the climate of public stigmatization. The pressure to conform became so intense that even people with no connection to the subject appeared to feel compelled to “say something.” A psychological atmosphere emerged in which even silence risked being treated with suspicion. A broad coalition effectively became part of the public vilification campaign.
One of the latest examples was Dücane Cündioğlu’s mocking question, intended to belittle the Hizmet Movement: “Why did this movement never produce a poet?”
At first glance, this might appear to be an ordinary cultural criticism. Indeed, were we not living through a process of systematic persecution, we might sit down and discuss the question for hours. But poetry is not the real issue here.
The issue is the translation into intellectual language of an attempt to devalue even the cultural existence of a community that has already been systematically stigmatized for years.
At this point, we must ask: What is the duty of an intellectual?
Is it to pursue the truth? Or is it to lend philosophical and cultural legitimacy to the language of exclusion produced by those in power?
Demonization Is Not Carried Out by the State Alone
State-sponsored, systematic demonization does not operate solely through the language of political power. During such periods, different segments of society—consciously or unconsciously—also become part of the machinery: bureaucrats, journalists, academics, artists, clerics, and intellectuals.
Each points their professional authority, knowledge, or art at the designated scapegoat like a weapon. Political science and social psychology have studied this phenomenon for many years.
What the literature calls the “scapegoat mechanism” describes the tendency of societies in times of crisis to blame a single group for complex problems. Hannah Arendt, meanwhile, explains that totalitarian regimes sustain themselves not only through instruments of repression, but also through the systematic reconstruction of truth.
Demonization, therefore, is not merely a propaganda technique. It is one of the principal mechanisms through which public consent is manufactured.
The Quiet Preparation for Violence
The most dangerous aspect of demonization is that it normalizes violence. A group is first stripped of its moral worth. It is then discredited. Afterward, violations of law, discrimination, and injustice targeting that group begin to appear normal in the eyes of society.
People cease discussing what has been done and begin discussing to whom it was done.
This is precisely where authoritarian regimes cross their most critical threshold. In a state governed by the rule of law, criminal responsibility is individual. Under authoritarian systems, identity itself becomes a crime. People are no longer judged for their actions, but for the community to which they are presumed to belong.
The suffering of the victims thus becomes invisible, while injustice becomes ordinary.
Where Does the Intellectual’s Conscience Begin?
In my view, the most fundamental duty of an intellectual is not to reproduce the language of power, but to stand for truth and justice in the face of power. The moment thought becomes a bludgeon in the hands of authority, it ceases to be philosophy and becomes merely an instrument of legitimation.
This is precisely why the language employed by Dücane Cündioğlu deserves to be placed on the record. What is at stake here is not an aesthetic judgment.
We are living through a historical period in which hundreds of thousands of people have been dismissed from public service, tens of thousands have been imprisoned, families have been torn apart, children have been stigmatized, passports have been revoked, and an entire community has been collectively branded as criminal.
In such an atmosphere, mocking the cultural output of any community is no longer an innocent literary debate. It is a symbolic contribution to social stigmatization.
If a thinker legitimizes devaluation through philosophical concepts—or lays the groundwork for it—that person is no longer merely producing ideas. They are granting intellectual legitimacy to the discourse of the powerful.
The Psychology of Blaming the Victim
Social psychology calls this victim blaming. If the victim can be portrayed as guilty, there is no longer any need to confront the injustice inflicted upon them.
First, the victim’s humanity is gradually eroded. Then, harsh measures targeting that victim become morally acceptable in the public conscience. History is filled with countless examples. No two cases are identical, but the underlying psychological mechanism is almost always the same.
The Moral Responsibility of the Intellectual
Edward Said—much admired but never truly understood by our political Islamists—describes the intellectual as someone who “speaks truth to power.” Noam Chomsky argues that the first duty of the modern intellectual is to question state propaganda.
The literature on this subject is extensive, but its central conclusion remains unchanged: Intellectuals are not intellectuals because they remain close to power, but because they are capable of challenging it when necessary.
It is easy to amplify the voice of the powerful against the vulnerable. What is difficult is calling injustice by its name even while society applauds it. The measure of an intellectual is not the ability to speak on behalf of the powerful, but the ability to preserve one’s conscience in the face of power.
The Memory of History
Every era produces its own propaganda, but no propaganda survives forever. Ideas, however, often outlive governments. History judges not only political rulers, but also the intellectuals who produce, repeat, and legitimize their narratives.
Ideas do not merely generate thought. Sometimes they also determine people’s fate within society. A philosopher’s sentence may find its way into a prosecutor’s indictment; an academic’s concept into a court ruling; a journalist’s headline into the conscience of millions.
Intellectual responsibility, therefore, means more than thinking correctly. It also means standing in the right place at the right moment.
Standing with the powerful is usually safe.
Standing with the truth often comes at a price. But history does not remember those who chose safety. It remembers those who were willing to pay the price.
Perhaps this is the real question we should be asking on the tenth anniversary of July 15:
Who said what—and why did they choose to speak that language?
