The death reports from Kurdish provinces, the destroyed and burned neighbourhoods, and the arrests and detentions of journalists and anyone calling for peace—these made the winter of 2016 feel colder than ever, right down to my bones. And finally, that winter began to pass. I wanted to greet March, the harbinger of spring, with hope. Even though I had a childish wish that the changing season would also soften the harsh political climate in Turkey, I knew it was impossible. War and death persisted. Those stripped of their freedom remained deprived of the coming spring, behind prison walls.
In the newspaper office, I scan mainstream media reports. Articles and footage flow before my eyes—labeling murdered Kurdish children, journalists detained and removed from their professions, and anyone advocating peace as “terrorists,” echoing R.T. Erdoğan’s words without deviation, relentlessly promoting government policies. I think about the journey I’ll take tomorrow, and I realise again how vital it is.
Technology & Methods:
In response to mainstream media’s insistence on Erdoğan and his AKP party's propaganda, journalists who reported the truth from the war zone were arrested. To fill the gap they left, dozens of us from various media outlets planned to travel to Diyarbakır as part of our campaign called "News Watch." For five days, we would take over the roles of our imprisoned colleagues at newspapers, radio, and TV stations.
I get up to prepare my equipment: laptop, camera, video recorder, and audio recorder. I check my wallet to make sure I’ve not left my press card behind at the office. I know that in the areas I’ll be reporting from, this card means nothing to the police—but still, I smile at myself for caring. Without documentation proving you're part of the mainstream media, police or military can prevent you from entering the area or detain you without cause. I take several memory cards from the drawer. If luck is on my side, I’ll be able to back up my footage and store it safely.
The next day, after landing at Diyarbakır Airport, I sling my large equipment bag over my shoulder beside my small clothing bag and head to the city centre with fellow journalists. Our first stop is a newspaper office; in the coming days, we’ll work at various radio and TV outlets. When we arrive, our local colleagues, who were informed of our visit, greet us. We go up to the rooftop terrace to discuss the latest developments and plan our day. As we sip tea overlooking the city, a buzzing sound grows louder, turns into a rumble, and then shakes the building beneath us. A colleague, seeing our startled expressions, explains: “They’ve started bombing.”
Notable Work:
When the meeting ends, we head toward the source of the shaking sound, wearing vests labeled “PRESS.” Getting to the mobile press centre near the bombing and gunfire in Diyarbakır’s Sur district is difficult. While mainstream media reporters pass through the police checkpoint easily, we are held back for a long time despite showing our press credentials. We are turned away without explanation. We split into pairs and try to get in through other checkpoints. When we finally regroup at the press centre, a sense of triumph in our eyes is quickly shadowed by fear as the ground shakes beneath us. Bombs explode just a few streets away. Bullets whistle over our heads.
For five days, I record interviews and take photos of people living in the neighbourhood, backing them up on memory cards and storing them in safe places. I’m arbitrarily detained by police once, even though I show my press card. They review my camera footage and delete my photographs without giving a reason. When I’m released a few hours later, no explanation is given. I’m relieved they didn’t find my backups. I’m glad they couldn’t stop me from writing in place of my imprisoned colleagues, who had been silenced for telling the truth.
Technologies Compromised:
Method: Arbitrary detention, equipment inspection, targeted media silencing
After five days, I return to Istanbul. Spring gives way to summer, summer to autumn. I spend the entire autumn of 2016 in courthouse corridors. Every article and report we published about the war at the newspaper where I’m the editor-in-chief becomes the subject of an investigation. Investigations turn into lawsuits, and the court hearings seem endless. I spend so much time in court that I can no longer practise my profession.
Autumn 2016 ends with prison sentences. 2017 opens the gates of prison for me—just as it has for 180 other journalists across Turkey.
Now, in the final days of March 2025, I’m in my third year in Växjö, Sweden. To be able to continue my profession without losing my freedom, I’ve come here. I learn that Swedish journalist Joakim Medin has been arrested in Turkey. Just like me and many others, he’s been imprisoned under similar charges, and his journalism is not recognised. Like anyone who criticises government policies in Turkey, he’s quickly branded a terrorist or a spy.
I think about the NATO process between Sweden and Turkey, the silent agreements signed. I hope they won’t prevent Joakim, myself, or our colleagues from doing our work. I hope they won’t cost us our freedom. I hope they won’t cast a shadow over press freedom in Sweden.
Aslı Ceren Aslan, Växjö, 15 May 2025
Born: 1990, Istanbul
Current Location: Växjö, Sweden
Profession: Journalist, Writer, Activist
Aslı Ceren Aslan graduated from Çanakkale Onsekiz Mart University, Department of Mathematics, in 2014. Between 2014 and 2021, she worked in various roles—including reporter, editor, and editor-in-chief—at Yeni Demokrat Kadın magazine and Özgür Gelecek newspaper in Turkey.
From 2017 to 2019, Aslan was imprisoned in Urfa Closed Prison No. 2 for her journalistic activities.
In 2021, she received a scholarship from GeoAIR, a Georgia-based arts organisation, to conduct research on the LGBTI+ community and gender inequality in the region. She lived and worked in Tbilisi from October 2021 to July 2022.
In 2022, Aslan was accepted into the International Cities of Refuge Network (ICORN). She was hosted by the Municipality of Växjö, Sweden, as a guest journalist and writer from July 2022 to July 2024.
Birbirimizin Çaresiyiz
Published by SRC Publishing House, Turkey (2023)
Swedish translation: Bara vi själva kan rädda varandra
Published by Trolltrumma Publishing House, Sweden (2023)
Aslan currently lives in Växjö. She regularly speaks at panels, seminars, and conferences on:
She also continues to organise workshops for LGBTI+ individuals and women, both in Sweden and internationally.