Claire Berlinski, Ed.: Don't Touch My Internet

Protests are planned today throughout Turkey against the government's plan to filter the Internet. You don't have to understand Turkish to appreciate this video campaign:

The theme of the campaign is "Don't touch my Internet."

And definitely, this campaign poster is important: It means the right to porn. (Or maybe "porn is a right.") And the next words are "It's forbidden to forbid."

I think to fully understand the passion behind this, you have to grasp the degree to which this culture polices itself by means of shame, family pressure, and neighborhood gossip. Everyone is in everyone's business, all the time. The authoritarianism of the state is only one component of a wider authoritarian culture; young people here have the sense, and it is quite justified, that everyone is telling them what to do--their families, especially. There's no way to escape the rigid social rules.

That's certainly not just about sex. I was talking the other day to my friend Okan (who's a member of Ricochet) about the pressure people feel in Turkey to provide proper hospitality to their guests. I'd had some friends around that evening. I had pretty much failed to do anything socially appropriate, by Turkish standards. I hadn't put out anything to eat; I didn't have anything for them to drink; I hadn't even done much to tidy up the apartment. I just didn't have time that day to shop or cook or clean, so I didn't bother. I felt bad about it, because no one in Turkey would ever be so inhospitable--it's almost unthinkable. You just don't say to your guests, "Hey, I didn't have time to cook for you, but the number for the pizza delivery guy's on the fridge." But I only felt mildly bad about it; I didn't feel that I couldn't hold my head up in public the next day. 

He pointed out the burden this expectation of exquisite hospitality placed on all concerned, the amount of worrying people did before having anyone over about whether the apartment was clean enough, the amount of work that went into cooking all that food, the pressure on guests to eat it, even if they weren't hungry--it was, he suggested, an exhausting, obsessive hassle. If you fail to do it according to the script, you'll be gossiped and back-bitten to death.

All that's true, I thought, but what's the alternative? We've had a huge experiment in America with having no manners and calling it "liberating." I can't say it's been an entirely successful one. 

In any event, the sentiment underlying this campaign seems to be, "For God's sake, you censorious, meddlesome scolds, just leave us alone." The strength of this campaign has taken me by surprise, but on reflection, it shouldn't have--people here are mighty sick of being told what to do all the time.  It was bound to be something like this.