Erdogan accuses the protesters of being looters, filth, marginal groups and terrorists. To accuse the youth of your country, the sons and daughters of your nation, is not just appalling, it is not even close to the truth. It is the opposite. The people who have gathered there are the Goddamn flower of the nation! (Sorry God, for cursing). These are the bravest, most courageous, most creative and most kind-hearted people Turkey has brought forth. Instead of being embraced they are scapegoated by their prime minister! He sends the riot police the beat their non-violent and unarmed asses down! By spreading his lies through the media he controls his poorly informed and remotely living electorate probably even beliefs he has a point. So he blatantly lies to justify blatantly immoral violence against innocent people and blatantly deludes his own following into believing his lies.
The last time I had been to Nes Ammim was to attend my grandmother’s funeral in 2002. I was 30 then. It was the only the second time I saw my father since I was 4 years old. He completely ignored me even though we (and the rest of the family) were in the same living room most of the time. Years before my grandmother made me promise that I would speak at her funeral so I had to write a speech during the night. One could say that my previous visit to Nes Ammim was emotional, in conventional and unconventional ways.
By walking around in the life work of my grandfather I realized that it was the first time that I saw the project with adult eyes and that I never had really looked at is a project before. For me it was always the place where my grandmother lived. Now the house was turned into a museum which meant that the place was hardly touched. My grandmothers glasses where still next to the phone and the Rummikub was still in the cupboard. Kind of eery. Felt like if she could walk in there any moment. Kind of eerie.