Academic Solidarity e.V.

What Turkey needs is justice, not revenge; truth, not propaganda; individual responsibility, not collective blame. If certain questions remain unanswered even after a decade, continuing to ask them is an academic, moral, and democratic duty.

Ten years have passed since July 15, 2016. Yet, the events of that night and the subsequent mass purge process remain among Turkey’s most critical issues regarding the rule of law, human rights, and social peace. The matter did not stop at the prosecution of those who used weapons on the night of the coup; hundreds of thousands were detained, tens of thousands were arrested, and approximately 130,000 public servants were dismissed from their professions without a court order. Furthermore, the closure of institutions, the seizure of assets, the cancellation of passports, and the social stigma extending to families have impacted the lives of millions.

In the nine years following July 15, 390,354 people were detained and 113,837 were arrested. Citing Ministry of Justice statistics, MP Mustafa Yeneroğlu notes that between 2016 and 2021 alone, 1,768,530 investigations were launched under Article 314 of the Turkish Penal Code regarding “armed terrorist organizations”—a figure that exceeds two million when subsequent years are included. In Yeneroğlu’s words, attributing crimes that might have been committed by a few thousand individuals to nearly two million people and their families represents a “lapse of reason.”

It is imperative that a social trauma of this magnitude, which has persisted for over a decade, be clarified through a transparent investigation.

https://www.aa.com.tr/tr/15-temmuz-darbe-girisimi/fetonun-15-temmuzdaki-darbe-girisiminden-bu-yana-113-bin-837-zanli-tutuklandi/3630249

https://devapartisi.org/parti/e-arsiv/yeneroglu-silahl-teror-orgutu-yarglamalarn-degerlendirdi-6-ylda-1-milyon-768-bin-530-sorusturma-baslatmak-akl-tutulmasdr

A distinction must be made between the coup attempt and the social purge.

The killing of security personnel and civilians, the mobilization of military units, and the attempt to overthrow the elected government on the night of July 15 constitute an unacceptable attack. It is both the right and the duty of the state to investigate—in accordance with the principles of fair trial—those who actively participated in the coup attempt, those who issued orders, and those responsible for acts of violence.

Condemning the coup attempt does not require turning a blind eye to the unlawful acts committed in its aftermath. Defending a democratic state governed by the rule of law requires opposing both the coup itself and the collective punishment imposed in its name.

Individual criminal liability has not been properly established in Turkey. Soldiers who used weapons on the night of the coup were placed in the same crime category as teachers, academics, doctors, journalists, tradespeople, students, housewives, and individuals who had any form of association with organizations that were considered entirely legal in the past. Opening a bank account, becoming a member of a trade union or association, attending certain schools, subscribing to a newspaper, or using a mobile application could be deemed indicative of membership in a terrorist organization, even in the absence of concrete evidence that the individual had participated in violence or harbored violent intent.

For this reason, the European Court of Human Rights’ conclusion in the Yüksel Yalçınkaya judgment is of historic significance. The ECtHR ruled that convictions based on the use of ByLock violated the principle of “no punishment without law,” the right to a fair trial, and the freedom of association. The Court explicitly stated that the issue did not concern a single applicant but rather constituted a systemic problem stemming from the Turkish judiciary’s approach. At the time of the ruling, approximately 8,500 similar applications were pending before the ECtHR, while Turkish authorities had reportedly identified around 100,000 ByLock users. In subsequent decisions issued in 2025, the ECtHR reaffirmed that this same structural problem affected a large number of individuals.

https://www.echr.coe.int/w/grand-chamber-judgment-concerning-turkiye

https://hudoc.echr.coe.int/#{%22itemid%22:[%22002-14187%22]}

Questions await clarification

It has not been conclusively proven by publicly available evidence that the events of July 15 were entirely staged by the government. However, stating that “the coup attempt was real” does not imply that the official narrative is accurate and complete in every detail, or that the government played no role whatsoever in the events. There remain numerous serious, unanswered questions regarding that night.

Why was the intelligence regarding the coup not adequately acted upon?

It is acknowledged that on the afternoon of July 15, the National Intelligence Organization (MİT) informed the General Staff about unusual military activity and a potential operation targeting MİT Undersecretary Hakan Fidan. Despite this, no comprehensive nationwide security alert was issued, strategic military bases were not secured, and the attempt was not thwarted before it began.

What was the exact content of the intelligence report? At what time and to whom was it conveyed? Why were the President and the Prime Minister not informed in a timely manner? Even though the possibility of a coup was identified, why were the airspace, military bases, bridges, and critical communication centers not secured in advance?

No comprehensive, evidence-backed answers have been provided to these questions.

https://www.cumhuriyet.com.tr/haber/darbe-girisimini-mite-ihbar-eden-binbasinin-ifadesi-ortaya-cikti-744459

Why were Hakan Fidan and Hulusi Akar not heard by the Parliamentary Commission?

Although a Parliamentary Commission was established to investigate the July 15 coup attempt, the two figures at the center of the events—then-MİT Undersecretary Hakan Fidan and Chief of General Staff Hulusi Akar—did not appear before the commission to answer MPs’ questions in a public forum. It is impossible to consider an investigation complete if the heads of the institutions that received and evaluated the intelligence reports were not questioned. Moreover, the fact that the text prepared by the commission was not deliberated in accordance with proper procedure at the General Assembly of Parliament—and that debates persist even years later regarding whether it ever attained the status of a finalized official report—has further deepened suspicions surrounding the investigation.

How was Adil Öksüz released?

The swift release of Adil Öksüz—who was apprehended near Akıncı Air Base and alleged to be one of the civilian orchestrators of the coup attempt—remains one of the darkest aspects of the events of July 15.

There has been no explanation capable of satisfying the public regarding why Öksüz was treated merely as an ordinary suspect, why his personal effects and phone records were not immediately subjected to detailed scrutiny, who bore responsibility for his release, and how he subsequently managed to vanish without a trace. The disappearance of such a pivotal figure necessitates an independent investigation into the possibilities of gross negligence, institutional protection, or tampering with evidence.

Why was the coup executed in such an unusual manner from a military perspective?

In a classic military coup, one would expect political leaders to be neutralized, television and communication infrastructure to be brought under control, airspace to be secured, and security institutions to be simultaneously disabled. On July 15, however, while bridges were only partially closed, television and internet broadcasts largely continued, political leaders reached the public, numerous military units did not join the attempt, and the operation was conducted in a fragmented manner.

This situation could be explained by disrupted plans due to the plot being exposed prematurely, the incompetence of the coup plotters, or a lack of coordination among them. However, the possibility that certain elements of the state were aware of the attempt beforehand, monitored developments up to a certain stage, or manipulated the process should also be the subject of an independent investigation.

When were the purge lists prepared?

The removal of thousands of judges and prosecutors—followed by tens of thousands of public officials—from their posts with extraordinary speed immediately after the coup attempt indicates that the purge lists had been prepared prior to July 15.

The state may well have possessed intelligence gathered and investigations conducted in accordance with the law prior to this. However, the mere existence of prior profiling or intelligence records regarding an individual does not prove their guilt. The evidence upon which these lists were based must be investigated. Dismissing individuals without hearing their defense and subjecting people with no concrete connection to the coup attempt to lifelong sanctions is unacceptable.

Why was the evidence not made available for independent review? Camera footage from the General Staff and Akıncı Air Base, radar records, military radio communications, the full text of the tip-off received by the National Intelligence Organization (MİT), records regarding the President’s flight, and the coup plotters’ chain-of-command links were not comprehensively examined by a commission of independent experts.

The fact that these documents remain solely under the control of the political authority and its affiliated institutions is insufficient to dispel public doubts. On the contrary, the incomplete and selective disclosure of information gives rise to new suspicions.

How did the explosions at Parliament occur?

According to the official indictment and court rulings, three separate munitions were dropped from F-16 fighter jets onto the Grand National Assembly of Turkey. However, during the trials, certain military experts and defendant pilots argued that there were significant discrepancies between this narrative and the flight records, munitions data, and physical damage. Specifically, it was claimed that the damage at the scene did not align with the crater and impact zone expected from the high-explosive bomb said to have been dropped in the Parliament courtyard; furthermore, it was alleged that the direction in which the building’s interior columns bent, the size of the openings in the roof, and the distribution of debris could indicate an explosion originating from within.

In response, the prosecution cited the pilots’ initial statements, radio communications, flight data, and expert reports as evidence of an air strike. Yet, the pilots later stated that their initial testimonies had been obtained under torture; arguments were raised regarding contradictions in flight times and aircraft tail numbers across various technical reports; and it emerged that requests for access to raw flight data by independent experts had not been met. Evidence regarding the bombing of Parliament—including crime scene footage, structural damage, explosive residues, radar records, aircraft black box data, and munitions inventories—should be re-examined by a panel of independent international forensic and military experts.

https://nordicmonitor.com/2021/07/turkish-parliament-bombing-in-2016-coup-attempt-was-staged-as-part-of-a-false-flag

https://nordicmonitor.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/07/Orhan_yikilkan_Akin_ozturk_testimony_parliament_bombing.pdf

https://15temmuzgercekleri.com/tbmmye-bomba-atildi-mi/

https://www.aa.com.tr/tr/15-temmuz-darbe-girisimi/akincidan-kalkan-ucaklarin-meclisi-bombaladigini-inkar-etti/1398546

The international connections of July 15 must also be investigated

Various claims suggest that the events of July 15 cannot be explained solely by actors within Turkey. One such claim is that Qasem Soleimani—the commander of the Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps’ Quds Force, who was killed by the US in Baghdad on January 3, 2020—played a role in thwarting the coup attempt.

Nureddin Şirin, the director of the pro-Iranian channel Quds TV, asserted that Soleimani provided significant assistance to Turkey on the night of July 15 and that President Erdoğan was aware of this help; Iranian President Hassan Rouhani also made statements implying that Erdoğan was well-informed about Soleimani’s regional activities. However, there is no publicly available, independently verified documentation regarding exactly what Soleimani did, whom he contacted, or what intelligence he conveyed that night.

A similar ambiguity exists regarding Russia. Immediately after the coup attempt, Iran’s Fars News Agency claimed that Russian military intelligence had intercepted radio communications concerning coup preparations and the operation against Erdoğan in Marmaris—using eavesdropping capabilities in Syria—and had warned Ankara in advance; the Kremlin, however, officially denied this report. Nevertheless, the presence of Aleksandr Dugin—a leading figure in Russian Eurasianism—in Turkey on July 14–15, 2016, is noteworthy, as are his contacts with Doğu Perinçek and his circle, and Perinçek’s subsequent statement that Dugin had warned Erdoğan’s advisors about the impending coup.

A report by the German Institute for International and Security Affairs on Eurasianism in Turkey also confirms Dugin’s presence in Turkey on the day of the coup; however, no independent record has been found to substantiate the claim that a prior warning was issued.

The meetings held by Perinçek’s circle with state and security officials in Russia, Iran, and Syria—both before and after the coup—must be examined alongside the intermediary role they played in shifting Turkey away from the NATO axis toward a Russia-Iran-centered Eurasian orientation, as well as the rapid Turkish-Russian rapprochement that followed the coup.

The United States figures on the other side of the issue. In August 2016, Erdoğan accused the West of supporting the coup plotters and terrorism, stating that the coup’s “script was written abroad”; subsequently, Interior Minister Süleyman Soylu directly alleged that “the US was behind July 15.” The US administration and the then-Commander of US Central Command, Joseph Votel, categorically denied these accusations.

Therefore, these allegations concerning Iran, Russia, and the US should not be treated as proven facts; rather, they should be viewed as serious questions requiring investigation by an independent commission—drawing on documents, diplomatic correspondence, and intelligence records—regarding Soleimani’s probable contacts, potential early warnings from Russian intelligence, the Dugin-Perinçek meetings, the role of Incirlik Air Base, and the rapid shift in foreign policy orientation that occurred after the coup.

https://turkishminute.com/2020/01/08/turkish-tv-director-claims-soleimani-played-crucial-role-in-thwarting-2016-coup-attempt

https://en.mfa.gov.ir/portal/newsview/570763/president-in-a-phone-call-with-his-turkish-counterpart-americans-made-a-grave-mistake-silence-towards-aggressor%E2%80%99s-acts-makes-them-bolder

https://www.themoscowtimes.com/2016/07/21/russia-warned-turkey-about-imminent-coup-a54674

https://www.reuters.com/article/world/middle-east/turkish-minister-says-us-behind-2016-failed-coup-hurriyet-idUSKBN2A41NE

From which weapons did the bullets that killed civilians originate?

Determining independently who shot the civilians who lost their lives on the night of July 15 is a fundamental issue that requires clarification. Official indictments acknowledge that the deaths were largely caused by a fire started by soldiers participating in the coup attempt. However, research based on certain case files and subsequently published ballistic documents suggests that some bullet and ammunition fragments recovered from victims could not be matched to the weapons of the soldiers on trial, and that some ammunition was inconsistent with the inventory used by the Turkish Armed Forces. Furthermore, allegations have been raised that in some incidents, autopsies were not performed or were inadequate, bullet fragments and casings were not fully collected, ballistic examinations of weapons were delayed, or prepared reports were not submitted to the relevant courts in a timely manner.

It has also been alleged that unidentified snipers were present at various locations that night and that the crowd was fired upon from directions other than those where the soldiers were positioned. Therefore, for each death, a comprehensive evaluation must be conducted, taking into account autopsy findings, the trajectory of wound channels, bullet and casing matches, firing distance, gunshot residue tests, crime scene footage, and the ballistic results of all military and police weapons present in the area. Unless these documents are made available to independent forensic medicine and ballistics experts, the question of which weapons fired the fatal bullets and who killed the civilians cannot be considered answered.

https://www.turkishminute.com/2020/01/11/some-bullets-used-in-2016-coup-attempt-did-not-belong-to-turkish-military-journalist-claims

https://www.tr724.com/bir-ceset-uc-rapor/

A “controlled coup,” or controlled outcomes?

In the debate surrounding July 15, various distinct claims are often lumped together under the single label of a “controlled coup.” However, it is necessary to consider at least four separate possibilities:

1. That the coup attempt was planned by the government from start to finish,
2. That preparations for the coup were discovered beforehand but not fully prevented,
3. That genuine coup preparations were manipulated by certain actors within the state,
4. That a genuine coup attempt was subsequently utilized for a large-scale purge that had been pre-planned or held in reserve.

There is no publicly available, indisputable evidence to confirm the first possibility. The second and third possibilities represent legitimate research questions because they raise points that remain unexplained. However, the possibility supported by the strongest evidence is the fourth: a genuine coup attempt was transformed by the political leadership into both a justification and a vehicle for a sweeping societal purge.

Indeed, it is striking that President Erdoğan characterized the coup attempt as “a great gift from God” during its very first hours, especially when viewed in light of subsequent developments. The state of emergency declared immediately after the coup was suppressed was used not merely to expose the coup plotters, but to reshape the state bureaucracy, universities, the media, civil society, and economic life.

From criminal investigation to social annihilation

In his book Erdocide: The Creepiest Human Trauma, Hüseyin Demirtaş describes the events following July 15 using the concepts of “postmodern social genocide” and “social killing.” According to Demirtaş, the aim is not merely to restrict people’s freedoms but to sever them from their professional, economic, and social existence.

A distinction must be made between the legal definition of “genocide” and the sociological and political usage of the term “social genocide.” The 1948 Genocide Convention requires a specific intent to physically destroy—in whole or in part—a national, ethnic, racial, or religious group. No international court has defined the events in Turkey following July 15 as genocide in the legal sense.

The primary instruments of this policy of social annihilation are as follows:

• Dismissal of individuals from their professions without court rulings or individualized justifications,
• De facto prevention of dismissed individuals from finding employment in the private sector,
• Cancellation of passports and prevention of travel abroad,
• Seizure of companies and personal assets,
• Treatment of spouses and children as suspects or “security risks,”
• Transformation of lawful associations with banks, schools, unions, associations, and media outlets into evidence of a crime,
• Prolonged pre-trial detentions and mass convictions based on standardized evidence,
• Marginalization of individuals through labels such as “KHK-dismissed” (decree-law victim), “affiliated,” or “terrorist,”
• Stigmatization extending even to funerals and gravesites after death,
• Passport cancellations, extradition requests, and extraterritorial pressure directed at those who managed to leave the country.

All of this affected not only the lives of the individuals under investigation but also those of their spouses, children, parents, and close social circles. Consequently, even though the number of investigations stands at approximately two million, the number of people actually affected is several times higher.

People were not merely deprived of their freedom; they were stripped of their professions, social standing, economic security, travel rights, and hopes for the future. Many were forced to leave their cities, flee the country, or conceal their identities. Children faced ostracism due to the accusations leveled against their parents. Families were torn apart, rates of illness rose, and deaths occurred in prisons and along the routes of forced migration.

This picture resembles not a limited judicial process aimed at punishing the perpetrators of the coup, but rather a regime of social annihilation that eliminated the public and economic existence of a specific social segment.

The purge of academia

Thousands of academics were dismissed from their posts via decrees having the force of law. Those expelled were not limited to individuals linked to the Gülen movement; the “Academics for Peace,” who had signed the “We Will Not Be a Party to This Crime” declaration, and scholars from various dissident circles also became targets of the State of Emergency (OHAL) mechanism.

Academics were removed from universities without being given the opportunity to present a defense; their passports were revoked, they were banned from working in other public institutions, and most were unable to find employment at private universities either. Their scholarly output, the students they had mentored, and their professional histories were devalued overnight.

Thus, the State of Emergency transcended the scope of a coup investigation, transforming into a tool that politically reshaped universities. It was not only the dismissed academics that universities lost; critical thinking, academic autonomy, and the environment of scientific trust also suffered severe damage.

Why must the events of July 15 be fully clarified?

It is impossible to establish social peace without shedding light on the obscure aspects of July 15. This is because the prevailing uncertainty drives those who question the government’s official narrative toward conspiracy theories, while also enabling the constant justification of post-coup unlawful practices under the pretext of “combating the coup.”

The aim of an independent investigation should be to uncover the following:

• Who learned of the preparations for the coup, and when?
• Which institutions took—or failed to take—which measures?
• What was the actual chain of command behind the coup attempt?
• With whom did political and military responsibility lie?
• Why was critical evidence not disclosed to the public?
• Why could the parliamentary inquiry not be completed?
• When and based on what criteria were the purge lists compiled?
• Why were hundreds of thousands of people who did not participate in the coup attempt subjected to collective punishment?

These questions can only be answered by a new parliamentary inquiry commission in which all political parties are represented, victims and witnesses are heard, and international legal experts and independent specialists can participate. All public institutions, including the National Intelligence Organization (MİT) and the General Staff, must submit the documents in their possession to the commission; radar, camera, telephone, and radio records must be examined by independent forensic experts.

Furthermore, the consequences of the policy of social exclusion and destruction must be reversed. Convictions of individuals against whom there is no concrete evidence of participation in a specific crime must be reviewed; the general measures required by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) ruling in the Yalçınkaya case must be implemented; dismissals via emergency decrees (KHK) must be made subject to independent judicial review; acquittals and decisions of non-prosecution must be recognized with all their administrative consequences; and passport, employment, and social security rights must be restored. Ultimately, shedding light on the events of July 15 does not amount to exonerating the coup plotters. There is no contradiction between opposing the coup attempt and opposing the unlawful practices carried out in its aftermath. Democratic consistency requires standing against both with equal clarity.

To this day, the extent of the state’s prior knowledge of the attempt, the reasons for the failure to take adequate precautions, why key actors were not interrogated, how certain suspects disappeared, and why the incident was not investigated by an independent commission remain unexplained.

In contrast, the social devastation that ensued after the coup is not a mere hypothesis. The dismissal of approximately 130,000 public officials, the detention of hundreds of thousands of people, over 100,000 arrests, more than two million terrorism investigations, and the stigmatization affecting millions of family members illustrate the scale of this process. Furthermore, the systemic legal violations identified by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) demonstrate that these grievances are not merely the result of isolated errors.

For this social devastation to end, the foundational narrative that enabled it—namely, the full elucidation of the events of July 15—must first be addressed. Uncovering the truth is not solely the right of the victims; it is also the right of those who lost their lives or were injured on the night of the coup, those unjustly accused, and future generations.

What Turkey needs is justice rather than revenge, truth rather than propaganda, and individual responsibility rather than collective blame. If questions remain unanswered even after a decade, continuing to ask them is an academic, moral, and democratic duty.

References

1. Mustafa Yeneroğlu, “15 Temmuz Darbe Teşebbüsü Hakkında Basın Açıklaması”:
   https://www.mustafayeneroglu.com/15-temmuz-darbe-tesebbusu-hk-basin-aciklamasi/
2. Mustafa Yeneroğlu’nun Adalet Bakanlığı istatistiklerine ilişkin açıklaması, “6 yılda 1 milyon 768 bin 530 soruşturma”:
   https://devapartisi.org/parti/e-arsiv/yeneroglu-silahl-teror-orgutu-yarglamalarn-degerlendirdi-6-ylda-1-milyon-768-bin-530-sorusturma-baslatmak-akl-tutulmasdr
3. Anadolu Ajansı, 2016–2025 dönemindeki gözaltı ve tutuklama verileri:
   https://www.aa.com.tr/tr/15-temmuz-darbe-girisimi/fetonun-15-temmuzdaki-darbe-girisiminden-bu-yana-113-bin-837-zanli-tutuklandi/3630249
4. Avrupa İnsan Hakları Mahkemesi, Yüksel Yalçınkaya/Türkiye Büyük Daire kararı:
   https://www.echr.coe.int/w/grand-chamber-judgment-concerning-turkiye
5. AİHM Yüksel Yalçınkaya kararı basın açıklaması ve karar özeti:
   https://hudoc.echr.coe.int/eng-press?i=003-7756172-10739780
6. AİHM, Demirhan ve Diğerleri/Türkiye takip kararı:
   https://hudoc.echr.coe.int/?i=001-244217
7. Birleşmiş Milletler İnsan Hakları Yüksek Komiserliği, OHAL dönemindeki insan hakları ihlalleri raporu:
   https://www.ohchr.org/en/press-releases/2018/03/turkey-un-report-details-extensive-human-rights-violations-during-protracted
8. Venedik Komisyonu, Türkiye’de OHAL KHK’larına ilişkin görüş:
   https://www.coe.int/web/venice-commission/-/opinion-865
9. Human Rights Watch, akademisyenlere yönelik tasfiyeler:
   https://www.hrw.org/news/2018/05/14/turkey-government-targeting-academics
10. Human Rights Watch, medya kuruluşlarının kapatılması ve gazetecilere yönelik uygulamalar:
    https://www.hrw.org/report/2016/12/15/silencing-turkeys-media/governments-deepening-assault-critical-journalism
11. Hüseyin Demirtaş, Erdocide: The Creepiest Human Trauma:
    https://books.google.com/books/about/ERDOCIDE.html?id=C53pDwAAQBAJ
12. Birleşmiş Milletler, Soykırım Suçunun Önlenmesi ve Cezalandırılması Sözleşmesi hakkında bilgi:
    https://www.un.org/en/genocide-prevention/1948-convention

When we accept an unjust intervention that works to our advantage, we undermine the moral grounds upon which we could object to a similar intervention directed against us in the future.

U.S. President Donald Trump was displeased with the red card shown to Folarin Balogun during the World Cup. He telephoned FIFA President Gianni Infantino to request a review of the decision. Shortly thereafter, while not rescinding the red card entirely, FIFA suspended Balogun’s automatic one-match ban for a probationary period of one year. This cleared the way for the player to take the field against Belgium. Trump later openly confirmed his intervention and praised FIFA’s decision (https://www.reuters.com/sports/soccer/uefa-says-fifa-crossed-red-line-with-balogun-red-card-u-turn-world-cup-2026-07-06/).

Whether Balogun’s action actually warranted a red card is, of course, open to debate. Referees can make mistakes. However, the real issue here is not whether the red card was correct or incorrect. The fundamental issue is that one of the world’s most powerful politicians could reach out directly to the FIFA President and intervene in favor of a player from his own country.

Could the head of state of another country have phoned the FIFA President in a similar situation? Would such a call have yielded the same result? While the term “pulling strings” might be perceived in everyday language as a harsh and definitive accusation, UEFA representatives and various circles within the football community noted that the decision crossed a serious line regarding the equitable application of the rules (https://www.theguardian.com/football/2026/jul/06/belgium-appeal-fifa-lifting-folarin-balogun-red-card-ban-last-16-us-world-cup).

The World Cup is one of the rare global events where humanity can unite around a shared excitement. Societies speaking different languages and possessing diverse religions, cultures, and political systems all agree to the rules of the same game. Even countries at war with one another or grappling with serious political issues face off on the same field, under the same referee, and subject to the same rules.

In this respect, while football may not be peace itself, it can serve as a microcosm of peaceful competition. Peace does not imply the total elimination of differences and conflicts; rather, it entails managing conflicts through shared rules, mutual recognition, and independent institutions, rather than through violence or arbitrary power. In football, too, teams strive to defeat one another, and the contest can be fierce. Yet, the parties involved accept in advance the shared rules that lend legitimacy to the match. This requires at least three conditions: rules must be applied equally to all; refereeing and disciplinary mechanisms must be free from political pressure; and the losing side must be able to believe that the process was fundamentally fair.

At first glance, the connection between this discussion and academia might seem remote. Yet, football and academia rest on similar foundations regarding institutional legitimacy. Academia, too, has its referees: research projects are evaluated, articles are accepted or rejected, academic appointments are made, scientific funds are distributed, and ethics committees issue rulings. The legitimacy of these decisions stems not from the outcomes pleasing everyone, but from the process being independent, transparent, and aligned with pre-established principles.

If an article is published solely due to the author’s connections, scientific evaluation loses its meaning. If a researcher is ousted from a university for displeasing the political establishment, we can no longer speak of academic freedom. If a rector is appointed based on political loyalty rather than scientific merit, that university ceases to be free.

For this reason, Trump’s call to the FIFA President carries significance that extends far beyond a trivial sports anecdote. This is a symbolic incident illustrating how easily political authority can reach into institutions that ought to be independent. Even more dangerous is the fact that such interventions are increasingly viewed by society as normal. People might say, “The president was defending his own team,” “Anyone else would have done the same,” or “After all, a wrong decision was corrected.”

When scientific institutions are steered by political phone calls, it is not only academics who suffer. Flawed health policies, the concealment of environmental issues, the distortion of historical facts, and the obstruction of research into social problems affect society as a whole. Similarly, the perception that international sports bodies are subject to political influence undermines trust not only among footballers but also between nations and societies.

We cannot leave world peace to the goodwill of leaders. Peace requires reliable institutions that powerful figures cannot simply interfere with at will. Likewise, academic freedom must rest not on administrators’ tolerance but on the rule of law, institutional autonomy, and international solidarity.

A single phone call does not, in itself, destroy world peace. However, the normalization of the idea that rules can be altered by a phone call erodes the trust that sustains our shared world—whether in football, academia, or politics. The most valuable message the World Cup can convey to humanity is not that the most powerful nation wins, but that all countries—strong and weak alike—are subject to the same rules.

The phrase “never again” holds meaning only when it applies not just to one people, but to all peoples.

Although it may no longer dominate the international news agenda as it once did, the destruction, starvation, forced displacement, and mass death occurring in Palestine persist. This week, we wish to highlight the Israeli side of the issue—or more precisely, the position of the Israeli state regarding international law, human rights norms, and universal moral principles.

As Prof. Moshe Maoz states in his article titled “A Democracy Turned Pariah State: Israel’s Moral Unraveling,” Israel’s international standing has changed dramatically in recent years. Once viewed—despite all criticisms—as a “flawed democracy living under a security threat,” Israel is today increasingly perceived as a “pariah state.” This transformation is not the result of a single event; rather, it stems from an accumulation of policies, civilian casualties, a humanitarian catastrophe, and the perception of systematic violations of international legal norms in Gaza and the West Bank (https://ihcr.institute/writing/a-democracy-turned-pariah-state-israels-moral-unraveling/).

This isolation is not merely a political reaction from the outside; strong moral objections are also being raised from within Israel itself. Israeli human rights organizations such as B’Tselem (https://www.btselem.org/press_releases/20250728_our_genocide) and Physicians for Human Rights-Israel (https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2025/07/israel-opt-israeli-organizations-conclude-israel-committing-genocide-against-palestinians-in-gaza-in-another-milestone-for-accountability-efforts/) have published reports characterizing the events in Gaza as genocide; they have assessed the targeting of civil society, the healthcare system, living conditions, and essential humanitarian infrastructure specifically within the framework of grave crimes under international law. The International Criminal Court’s issuance of arrest warrants for Benjamin Netanyahu and Yoav Gallant—on allegations of war crimes and crimes against humanity—further demonstrates that this process has shifted from a matter of mere moral concern to a realm of legal accountability (https://www.icc-cpi.int/news/situation-state-palestine-icc-pre-trial-chamber-i-rejects-state-israels-challenges).

Of course, the attacks by Hamas against civilians on October 7, 2023, were unacceptable and cannot be justified in any way. However, no attack can legitimize the collective punishment of a people, the destruction of cities, the deaths of children due to starvation and bombardment, the dismantling of the healthcare system, or the suspension of international humanitarian law. The fact that the genocide case brought by South Africa against Israel at the International Court of Justice is ongoing—and that the Court continues to keep the matter on its agenda—demonstrates that the issue has been recorded in the global public consciousness not merely as a fleeting political debate, but as a historic matter of law and humanity (https://www.icj-cij.org/case/192).

This situation is particularly jarring given the historical weight of the principle of “Never Again.” The Jewish people have borne the trauma and memory of the Nazi genocide across generations. This memory serves as a universal moral warning—not only for Jews but for all of humanity: no people, no state, and no ideology may dehumanize another people in the name of security or revenge. The policies currently pursued by the Israeli government appear to represent a moral collapse because they contradict this universal principle.

Nevertheless, many Jewish individuals, academics, human rights defenders, and communities across the globe are opposing these policies, declaring “not in our name” (https://www.jewishvoiceforpeace.org/resource/not-in-my-name-divest/). These voices are invaluable, for criticizing the policies of the Israeli government does not constitute antisemitism. On the contrary, upholding the principle of “Never Again”—one of the most significant moral legacies of Jewish history—on behalf of Palestinians as well is an act of defending universal human values. For this reason, the growing objections from certain Jewish communities in the diaspora regarding Israel’s policies in Gaza also warrant close attention (https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2026/6/13/not-in-my-name-the-jewish-diaspora-fighting-the-consensus-on-israel). However, these objections are not yet sufficient to alter the course of Israeli policy. As the Israeli state persists on a path that largely disregards international reactions, human rights reports, legal proceedings, and calls for a ceasefire, it is not only inflicting irreparable suffering upon the Palestinian people but also creating a heavy historical legacy for its own society and future generations. Every crime committed today, every conscience silenced, and every child’s death ignored will remain an indelible record in the memory of the future.

The solution lies in Israeli society and the international actors supporting it, emerging from this moral blindness as soon as possible. Security can only acquire meaning through the rule of law; peace, through justice; and memory, through the universal conscience. Israel must abandon this policy that drags it into deeper isolation and exclusion, recognize the fundamental rights of Palestinians, comply with international law, and accept accountability.

Thousands of people from Turkey—having exhausted all domestic legal remedies and been deprived of their jobs, freedom, and homeland—are continuing their quest for justice before the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR). The “Strasbourg Justice Gatherings” serve as a reflection in Europe not only of individual grievances but also of the lawlessness that has been deepening in Turkey for years.

This week, we wish to highlight the Strasbourg Justice Gatherings, which have been held in Strasbourg—before the Council of Europe and the ECHR—since 2022. These gatherings constitute a powerful appeal to the European public against the lawlessness that has persisted in Turkey for years, the failure to implement ECHR rulings, and the culture of impunity (https://tr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strasbourg_Adalet_Buluşmaları). Human rights organizations reported that approximately 4,500 people participated in the 2025 gathering; this year, it was announced that participation reached 5,000 (https://www.hrsolidarity.org/tag/strasbourg/). The central call of the fifth gathering in 2026 was for Turkey to implement ECHR rulings and for Council of Europe mechanisms to be operated more effectively (https://natlawreview.com/press-releases/thousands-rally-strasbourg-demand-action-over-turkeys-failure-enforce-ecthr).

The post-2016 “Decree-Law” (KHK) regime in Turkey led not only to individual job losses but also to the transformation of the entire social structure through extra-legal means. A total of 127,292 applications were submitted to the State of Emergency Procedures Review Commission; of these, 17,960 were accepted, and 109,332 were rejected. In other words, approximately 85.9% of the applications were rejected. These figures reflect only the officially recorded aspect of a process in which tens of thousands of people were deprived of their jobs, professions, social status, passport rights, and, in many cases, their basic means of livelihood (https://tr.euronews.com/2023/01/20/ohal-inceleme-komisyonu-tum-basvurulari-karara-bagladi-istatistiklerle-kabul-ve-ret-orani).

Dismissals via Decree-Laws (KHKs) caused severe devastation, particularly within academic life. One study on this subject found that between 2016 and 2018, 3,452 academics—representing approximately 5.7% of the total academic staff—were dismissed from public universities via Decree-Laws, and that this process was associated with a significant decline in universities’ scientific productivity (https://ijmshr.com/uploads/pdf/archivepdf/2024/IJMSHR_402.pdf).

Similarly, studies on healthcare professionals emigrating from Turkey indicate that this migration cannot be explained solely by economic reasons. A study titled “Navigating Exodus” analyzed the responses of 506 healthcare workers who had left Turkey; the vast majority of participants cited the political atmosphere, a sense of insecurity, and workplace violence as decisive factors in their decision to emigrate. Notably, the study reported that many individuals viewed emigration as the “only way out” because, despite being in a better economic position in Turkey, they did not feel free or secure (https://eu-opensci.org/index.php/ejsocial/article/view/18519). In the study titled “Medical Professionals’ Migration from Turkey,” data from 513 medical professionals were analyzed. Physicians constituted 79.3% of the participants; approximately one-fifth held an academic title, while another fifth had completed post-specialization advanced training. Despite this, following migration, 63.4% were compelled to work in lower-status jobs, and 45.2% remained unemployed or attended training courses. These findings indicate that the cohort leaving Turkey represents a group that is highly educated, experienced, and embodies the country’s institutional capacity, rather than constituting a typical labor migration flow (https://ijmshr.com/uploads/pdf/archivepdf/2024/IJMSHR_398.pdf).

Today, prisons in Türkiye have become one of the epicenters of the human rights crisis. According to data from the Ministry of Justice’s General Directorate of Prisons and Detention Houses dated June 1, 2026, there are 421,583 detainees and convicts in the country’s prisons; of these, 20,586 are women and 4,673 are children aged 12–18 (https://cte.adalet.gov.tr/Resimler/Dokuman/202606031504182725-%20Ceza%20%C4%B0nfaz%20Kurumunda%20Bulunan%20Tutuklu%20ve%20H%C3%BCk%C3%BCml%C3%BClerin%20Ya%C5%9F%20Gruplar%C4%B1na%20G%C3%B6re%20Da%C4%9F%C4%B1l%C4%B1mlar%C4%B1.pdf). According to CİSST’s May 2026 assessment, there are 20,235 female prisoners in the country’s prisons, and the number of children aged 0–6 staying with their mothers is reported as 891 (https://cisst.org.tr/mayis-2026-hapishane-istatistikleri-aciklandi/). Meanwhile, the Human Rights Association’s 2025 Report on Sick Prisoners indicates that at least 1,412 sick prisoners have been identified, with 335 of them classified as critically ill (https://www.ihd.org.tr/2025-yili-hasta-mahpuslar-raporu/).

Alongside dismissals via decree-laws (KHKs), the extraordinarily broad interpretation of “terrorism” charges in Turkey has also evolved into a massive human rights issue. According to a statement by Mustafa Yeneroğlu based on Ministry of Justice statistics, 1,768,530 investigations regarding “armed terrorist organizations” were initiated under Article 314 of the Turkish Penal Code (TCK) between 2016 and 2021 alone. In subsequent statements, Yeneroğlu noted that the total number of investigations launched in connection with charges against armed terrorist organizations following July 15 had reached approximately 2 million. These figures demonstrate that the concept of “terrorism” in Turkey has moved beyond the investigation of violent acts to become a broad instrument of criminalization encompassing journalists, academics, public servants, politicians, students, businesspeople, and civil society representatives (https://hukuk.devapartisi.org.tr/haber/adalet-bakanl%C4%B1%C4%9F%C4%B1n%C4%B1n-2021-adalet-i%CC%87statistiklerine-yans%C4%B1yan-silahl%C4%B1-ter%C3%B6r-%C3%B6rg%C3%BCt%C3%BC-%C3%BCyeli%C4%9Fi-yarg%C4%B1lamalar%C4%B1-verileri-hk-bas%C4%B1n-a%C3%A7%C4%B1klamas%C4%B1).

In addition to Osman Kavala, Selahattin Demirtaş, Figen Yüksekdağ, Can Atalay, Tayfun Kahraman, Çiğdem Mater, and Mine Özerden, Ekrem İmamoğlu is also today one of the most visible examples of the politicization of the judiciary in Turkey. Human Rights Watch highlights that İmamoğlu was detained and subsequently arrested on March 19, 2025; that he stood trial alongside hundreds of municipal officials and employees in a case commencing in 2026; and that there are concerns regarding the politically motivated nature of the proceedings (https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2026/country-chapters/turkiye). The upholding of the aggravated life sentence for Osman Kavala and the 18-year prison sentences for Can Atalay, Tayfun Kahraman, Çiğdem Mater, and Mine Özerden in the Gezi trial; the failure to release Can Atalay despite his election as a Member of Parliament and Constitutional Court rulings; and the continued imprisonment of Demirtaş and Yüksekdağ despite European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) judgments demonstrate that the right to elected representation and binding high court rulings can be effectively suspended in Turkey.

Migration from Turkey is also a direct consequence of this human rights crisis. According to TurkStat, 403,216 people emigrated from Turkey in 2025; of these, 155,119 were citizens of the Republic of Turkey (https://veriportali.tuik.gov.tr/tr/press/58140). OECD data indicates that migration by Turkish citizens to OECD countries rose by 37% in 2023, reaching 158,000, with approximately 57% of this migration directed toward Germany (https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/international-migration-outlook-2025_ae26c893-en/full-report/turkiye_6a33f8e3.html). The European Union Agency for Asylum reports that while asylum applications by Turkish citizens exceeded 100,000 in 2023 and dropped to 33,000 in 2025, Turkish citizens nevertheless remain the fifth-largest group of applicants in the EU+ region (https://www.euaa.europa.eu/latest-asylum-trends-annual-analysis/applications). Human rights violations in Turkey are not confined to prisons, courtrooms, or lists of individuals dismissed by decree-laws. These violations tear families apart, condemn children to prison conditions, deprive the critically ill of their right to medical treatment, silence academia, force professionals into exile, and drive the country’s skilled workforce abroad. The call for justice in Strasbourg is a test not only for Turkey but also for the credibility of the European human rights system. As justice is delayed, it is not only the victims who suffer, but the legal order itself.

What forced many to emigrate was not a better salary, but unlawful dismissals, passport cancellations, the threat of arrest, professional ruin, social exclusion, and deep fear regarding their children’s future.

Some discussions on migration emphasize that human mobility is more closely linked to economic development and long-term societal transformations than to sudden crises. While this perspective is certainly valuable for understanding certain aspects of global migration flows—as people move across countries for work, education, family reunification, or better living conditions—it must not obscure one of the most pressing realities of our time: in today’s world, millions of people are not merely migrating; they are being forcibly displaced (https://www.welt.de/wissenschaft/article6a2fb2dd0611b9299a15580d/migration-eher-von-wirtschaftlicher-entwicklung-angetrieben-als-von-ploetzlichen-isolierten-krisen.html).

The global number of international migrants rose from approximately 160 million in 1990 to 304 million in 2024—nearly doubling. As a proportion of the world population, the migrant share increased from roughly 2.9–3.0% in 1990 to 3.7% in 2024 (https://www.migrationdataportal.org/themes/international-migrant-stocks-overview). Although the vast majority of migrants (about 60%) move for employment purposes, the proportion of people involved in cross-border forced migration or holding refugee status is estimated at around 17% (with the remaining ~23% attributed to mixed reasons such as family reunification and education) (https://www.unhcr.org/global-trends-report-2024).

Forced migration is not an economic choice; it is, in most cases, a survival strategy. The academics, teachers, physicians, legal professionals, and civil servants forced to leave Erdoğan’s Turkey did not set out in search of higher incomes. Many held respected professional positions, enjoyed relative economic security, and were socially well-established in their home country. What drove them to emigrate was not the prospect of a better salary, but rather unlawful dismissals, passport revocations, the threat of arrest, professional ruin, social ostracism, and deep anxiety about their children’s futures (https://turkeypurge.org/ https://www.statista.com/chart/5333/the-targets-of-erdogans-purge/).  

The same applies to the women, academics, journalists, and former civil servants fleeing Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. Similarly, the millions fleeing Syria, Sudan, Ukraine, Myanmar, or other conflict zones are rarely in pursuit of economic opportunity; they are escaping bombs, oppression, arbitrary violence, state collapse, or systematic human rights violations. Consequently, attempting to explain forced migration solely through the lens of economic development theories ignores the political and moral realities experienced by the victims.

Today, the number of forcibly displaced people worldwide exceeds 100 million. This figure is not merely a statistic; it represents shattered families, interrupted educations, silenced academic voices, derailed careers, and lives condemned to uncertainty. A significant portion of these displaced individuals are still searching for safety within their own countries; Meanwhile, millions of people are striving to rebuild their lives in other countries as refugees, asylum seekers, or under temporary protection status (https://www.unhcr.org/hk/en/about-unhcr/overview/figures-glance).

The impact of forced migration on the academic world is even more profound. Uprooting an academic from their country is not merely an individual tragedy; it is also a blow to society’s collective memory, its capacity for critical thought, and its scientific output. When universities are silenced, it is not only academics who lose out, but also students, institutions, and future generations. The destruction of academic freedom amounts to severing a country’s intellectual lifelines.

For this reason, the issue of migration is not simply a matter of humanitarian aid or integration for Academic Solidarity. It is also a fundamental arena of solidarity concerning academic freedom, human dignity, and the future of democratic societies. The stories of forcibly displaced academics reveal that migration is not a choice, but the last resort for preserving one’s dignity, profession, and freedom.

Economic factors certainly play a significant role in global migration movements. However, equating forced migration with economic migration would be both an analytical and a moral error. Economic migration is often driven by the desire for better opportunities. Forced migration, on the other hand, is frequently a matter of exercising one’s last remaining option: to flee, to survive, and to start over.

What we need today is not a language that views migrants and refugees merely as statistics, burdens, or security threats, but a language of solidarity that makes their knowledge, experiences, professional backgrounds, and human stories visible. Academic solidarity must be strengthened by amplifying the voices of the silenced, making visible the labor of the displaced, and opening up new intellectual spaces for scientists who have lost their freedom.

We can discuss the economic dynamics of migration. Yet, at the heart of forced migration lies not economics, but freedom. And standing in solidarity with those deprived of their freedom is not merely a humanitarian duty; it is an act of upholding the very reason for the academic world’s existence.

GLP-1 agonists represent a new era in medicine. However, their optimal use requires an approach that balances excitement with caution, does not overlook lifestyle changes, and considers both patient safety and social equity.

In recent years, GLP-1 receptor agonists have emerged as one of the fastest-growing classes of drugs. Originally developed to treat type 2 diabetes, these drugs now sit at the heart of obesity treatment as well. Following the introduction of exenatide in 2005, molecules such as liraglutide, dulaglutide, and semaglutide arrived; subsequently, drugs like tirzepatide—which combine GLP-1 activity with GIP activity—further transformed the landscape. While weight-loss strategies once relied primarily on diet, exercise, behavioral changes, and drugs of limited efficacy, we now discuss pharmacological options capable of achieving weight loss of 15–20% (https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK572151/).

The primary mechanism of these drugs is to mimic the effects of the GLP-1 hormone secreted by the intestine. GLP-1 stimulates insulin secretion, suppresses glucagon, slows gastric emptying, and enhances the sensation of satiety in the brain. Consequently, they are effective in both blood sugar control and appetite reduction. In type 2 diabetes, GLP-1 agonists significantly lower HbA1c levels and promote weight loss. Furthermore, cardiovascular studies involving semaglutide have demonstrated a reduction in cardiovascular events among high-risk patients with diabetes (https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa1607141).

Data regarding obesity is even more striking. In the STEP-1 trial, adults with obesity or overweight who used 2.4 mg of semaglutide weekly experienced an average weight loss of 14.9% after 68 weeks, whereas the figure remained at 2.4% in the placebo group (https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa2032183). Meanwhile, the SURMOUNT-1 trial involving tirzepatide reported weight loss ranging from approximately 16% to 22.5%, depending on the dosage (https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/35658024/). Weight loss also yields positive effects on blood pressure, fatty liver, sleep apnea, joint load, and cardiometabolic risk. The SELECT trial further expanded this scope by demonstrating that semaglutide reduces major cardiovascular events in individuals without diabetes who have obesity or overweight and established cardiovascular disease (https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMoa1607141).

There are also early indications that the effects of these drugs may extend beyond metabolism. Research is ongoing in areas such as addiction, fatty liver, polycystic ovary syndrome, Alzheimer’s disease, and depression. A recently published animal study suggested that liraglutide alleviates depressive behaviors by altering the gut microbiota—specifically through an increase in Lactobacillus delbrueckii—and by acting on the endocannabinoid system (https://www.eurekalert.org/news-releases/1130817). While this finding is exciting, it does not yet translate to a treatment for depression in humans. Nevertheless, it is noteworthy for demonstrating the potential importance of the gut-brain axis.

Of course, it is incorrect to present these drugs as “miracles.” Like most medications, they have side effects. The most common side effects include nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, constipation, and abdominal pain. Rarer but significant risks include pancreatitis, gallbladder disease, kidney problems due to fluid loss, increased heart rate, and—in some patients—worsening of diabetic retinopathy (https://www.accessdata.fda.gov/drugsatfda_docs/label/2026/215256s033lbl.pdf). The risk of hypoglycemia may increase when used in combination with insulin or sulfonylureas. Furthermore, they should not be used by individuals with a history of medullary thyroid cancer or MEN2. There has been a long-standing debate regarding psychiatric side effects; however, recent FDA evaluations found no evidence that GLP-1 agonists cause suicidal thoughts (https://www.fda.gov/drugs/drug-safety-communications/update-fdas-ongoing-evaluation-reports-suicidal-thoughts-or-actions-patients-taking-certain-type).

Another issue is access and equity. Demand for these drugs has surged to such an extent that many countries experience periodic shortages, making it difficult for diabetic patients to obtain the medication. This situation brings the classic question of medicine back to the fore: When a treatment is effective, who should have access to it, to what extent, and on what grounds? (https://www.ema.europa.eu/en/news/eu-actions-tackle-shortages-glp-1-receptor-agonists)

GLP-1 agonists represent a new era in medicine. It is clear that they offer powerful tools for treating diabetes and obesity. However, the optimal approach will balance excitement with caution, avoid overlooking lifestyle changes, and consider patient safety and social equity in tandem.

Artificial intelligence can write, but it cannot be held accountable. A scientific text is a declaration of responsibility grounded in verifiable reality; when this declaration collapses, what remains is not science, but merely an imitation of it.

It is now nearly impossible to avoid using artificial intelligence in scientific work. Indeed, in many cases, it should be used. AI serves as a powerful aid to researchers in areas such as language editing, translation support, summarization, text planning, statistical coding, and the simplification of complex concepts.

First, we must seek the answer to this question: Does artificial intelligence support the researcher’s effort, or does it replace them by generating the text itself? There is a world of difference between a researcher using AI to better articulate their own ideas and having AI write the entire text, construct the arguments, and compile the bibliography, only to present it as one’s own academic output.

International publication ethics bodies have drawn this distinction. According to COPE, AI tools cannot be listed as authors because authorship entails more than just generating text; it involves taking responsibility for the accuracy and integrity of the work (https://publicationethics.org/guidance/cope-position/authorship-and-ai-tools). Similarly, the ICMJE emphasizes that the use of AI must be disclosed and that human authors bear full responsibility for any text, images, or sources generated by AI (https://www.icmje.org/recommendations/browse/artificial-intelligence/ai-use-by-authors.html).

One of the most dangerous issues arising when this boundary is crossed is the phenomenon of AI “hallucinations.” Unsupervised models, in particular, are capable of generating books, articles, authors, journals, page numbers, and DOI details that appear authentic but do not actually exist.

A striking example of this from Turkey is a doctoral thesis titled “Political and Military Relations Between Golden Horde Khan Tokhtamysh and Chagatai Ruler Emir Timur,” prepared by Damira Makhanova at the Ankara University Institute of Social Sciences (https://tez.yok.gov.tr/UlusalTezMerkezi/TezGoster?key=KOgdn9H3uVnWeb15j2W4hxNPsKdqDnT_o7_nxp0jCES_jI7eqyjpDfhRGeNfUX8J). The thesis’s title and approval pages indicate that the work was conducted at Ankara University under the supervision of Prof. Dr. İlhan Erdem, that the jury included five professors, and that the defense date was set for January 27, 2026. On the ethics declaration page, the author states that all information was gathered in accordance with academic rules and ethical principles and that all sources were fully cited.

Certain publications attributed to İlker Evrim Binbaş are cited as sources in the thesis. In statements made on social media, Binbaş notes that some of these works are not his and describes the situation as serious (https://x.com/evrimbinbas/status/2059896658104549533?s=46&t=rFptNgTuGJR_LxxD3-c8gA). Of course, the presence of fake or unverifiable sources does not, in itself, conclusively prove that the text was written by artificial intelligence. However, this type of source usage strongly aligns with the problem of “hallucinated references” frequently encountered in the age of artificial intelligence.

More importantly, this case reveals a problem that runs deeper than just artificial intelligence. The academic oversight mechanism at Ankara University is failing to function. If a doctoral thesis systematically cites sources that do not exist or cannot be verified, this cannot be viewed merely as the student’s individual error. The supervision process, the jury evaluation, the institute’s checks, and the university’s quality assurance mechanisms must also be called into question.

This example holds symbolic significance in demonstrating just how fragile academic quality assurance has become in certain areas in Turkey. The issue is not simply the writing of a poor thesis, but the fact that such a thesis could pass through the academic review process. Even more alarming is that when such cases are dismissed as isolated errors, academic institutions end up perpetuating the mere production of documents rather than the pursuit of science.

It should be noted that this problem is not unique to Turkey. Cases of AI-generated fake citations are becoming increasingly visible in international academic publishing as well. Numerous fabricated sources have been identified even in articles published on academic ethics. One study indicates that one in every 277 articles indexed in PubMed contains fabricated sources (https://retractionwatch.com/category/by-reason-for-retraction/reference-problems/).

The fundamental issue is how to safeguard scientific integrity in the age of artificial intelligence. Artificial intelligence is a powerful tool when it supports scientific endeavor. However, when it transforms into a machine that generates text, arguments, and bibliographies without human oversight, it accelerates academic decay. A scientific text is a declaration of responsibility founded upon verifiable reality. When this declaration collapses, nothing remains but an imitation of science.

Academic solidarity is not limited merely to providing scholarships, job postings, letters of recommendation, or temporary positions. It is also crucial to stand by someone grappling with uncertainty—to say, “You do not have to make this decision alone.”

Making decisions during times of crisis is difficult. This is because a crisis does not merely multiply one’s options; it also constricts time, diminishes available information, and subjects individuals to intense stress. Decisions made in situations involving war, oppression, job loss, exile, migration, academic exclusion, or legal uncertainty are rarely—if ever—made under ideal conditions. Rather than striving for the “most correct” decision, individuals often aim to make the decision that, at that moment, is the “least wrong.”

A recent study has sparked an intriguing discussion about complex decision-making. Researchers analyzing professional chess matches reported that moves executed within shorter timeframes were, on average, of higher quality. In the study, the quality of these moves was benchmarked against the evaluations of chess engines. The researchers emphasize that the duration of the decision-making process reflects not only time pressure but also the extent to which a player perceives their position as difficult. In other words, a quick decision does not invariably signify superficiality; sometimes, a rapid decision may instead be an indication of intuition honed through experience (https://neurosciencenews.com/decision-speed-intuition-30715/).

Naturally, it would be inappropriate to directly extrapolate this finding to every sphere of life. Chess is a domain characterized by well-defined rules, measurable outcomes, and a high level of expertise. Nevertheless, in certain situations, prolonged deliberation may serve less as a sign of deeper insight and more as a symptom of mental paralysis—a state of being “stuck.” Sometimes, a person continues to think simply because they are unable to reach a decision—not because they anticipate that further reflection will yield a superior outcome.

Those who have endured academic exile know this all too well. Decisions made under pressure are often not as cool-headed and clean-cut as moves on a chessboard. To stay at the university, or to resign? To leave the country, or to wait? To take one’s family immediately, or to first prepare a secure foundation? To start a career from scratch in a new country, or to try to preserve one’s academic identity? For most of these questions, there is insufficient information. There is the pressure of time. The emotional burden is heavy. And every option comes with a cost…

In such times, intuition is a resource that should not be underestimated. Intuition is often not thoughtlessness, but rather the rapid articulation of accumulated experience. Having experienced similar pressures before, observing how institutions react, recognizing signs of unreliability, sensing the discrepancy between people’s words and their actions—all these elements silently contribute to the decision-making process. In a moment of crisis, one sometimes senses that a certain path is dangerous while another is safer, even if one cannot fully articulate the reasons why.

However, one must be cautious here. Not every quick decision is a good one. Nor is every intuition an act of wisdom. Fear, too, can speak in the guise of intuition. Trauma, too, can present itself as an “inner voice.” Panic can tell a person to freeze when they ought to flee, or to rush when they ought to wait. Therefore, the fundamental issue in making decisions under crisis is not the question: “Should one think fast, or slow?” The real challenge lies in being able to discern under which circumstances one can trust one’s own intuition, and under which circumstances one requires the support of others.

In moments of crisis, solidarity becomes vital. A person left isolated during a crisis is forced to make decisions confined within the narrowing confines of their own mind. However, a trusted colleague, a human rights network, an academic solidarity platform, a mentor, or someone who has walked the same path before can fundamentally alter the nature of a decision. Solidarity is not about making decisions on another person’s behalf; rather, it is about creating a space where that person can make a sounder decision for themselves.

Consequently, academic solidarity is not limited merely to providing scholarships, job postings, letters of recommendation, or temporary positions. While these are invaluable, solidarity also has a quieter dimension: accompanying someone as they grapple with uncertainty. It involves helping them distinguish between panic and intuition, hope and realism, risk and opportunity. Sometimes, the most critical support one can offer a person during a pivotal moment in their life is not to say, “Do this,” but rather, “You do not have to make this decision alone.”

During times of crisis, ideal decisions are rare. Most decisions are made amidst incomplete information, exhaustion, fear, and intense time pressure. For this reason, while it is easy to look back in hindsight and pass judgment on others, it is rarely fair. Questions such as, “Why didn’t they leave sooner?” “Why did they wait?” “Why did they sign that document?” or “Why did they remain silent?” often fail to acknowledge the reality of the person caught within the crisis. In that moment, what lies before the individual is not merely a set of options, but also family responsibilities, financial anxieties, legal risks, professional prospects, and emotional turmoil.

Perhaps the most important lesson we must learn regarding decision-making under duress is this: The human mind, left to its own devices, is not limitless. Intuition is valuable, yet it requires a secure context in which to operate. Reason is essential, but it, too, requires both time and information. Solidarity fills this void.

We must protect not only the jobs, titles, or institutions of academics under pressure, but also their capacity for decision-making. For a crisis shakes not only a person’s external world but also their inner compass. Solidarity will help that compass find its bearings once again.

When war, oppression, and political repression are at issue, human life cannot be sacrificed to calculations of long-term self-interest.

In developed countries, fertility rates are declining, life expectancy is increasing, and the ratio of the working-age population to retirees is falling. According to the OECD, the old-age dependency ratio rose from 19% in 1980 to 31% in 2023, and is projected to reach 52% by 2060. Consequently, migration is frequently presented as a “solution” for aging societies. However, this issue is not as simple as it might seem: Migration presents both opportunities and serious challenges for both destination and source countries (https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/2025/07/oecd-employment-outlook-2025_5345f034/full-report/component-6.html).

The strongest argument in favor of migration is the labor shortage. Many developed countries rely on immigrant labor across sectors such as healthcare, elderly care, construction, agriculture, logistics, and technology. As the working-age population shrinks, tax and social security revenues decline, while expenditures on pensions and healthcare rise. The European Commission’s 2024 Aging Report demonstrates that aging populations exert long-term pressure on spending related to pensions, healthcare, and long-term care (https://economy-finance.ec.europa.eu/publications/2024-ageing-report-economic-and-budgetary-projections-eu-member-states-2022-2070_en).

Furthermore, migration is not merely an economic issue, but a humanitarian one. People are compelled to leave their home countries due to war, oppression, poverty, the climate crisis, or restrictions on academic and political freedoms. From the perspective of academic solidarity, academics, physicians, journalists, and students in exile are not merely “labor”; they are human beings whose rights have been violated. Opening our doors to them is, first and foremost, a human rights responsibility—one that takes precedence over demographic calculations.

Nevertheless, it would be incorrect to assert that migration constitutes a solution under all circumstances. The United Nations’ discussions regarding “replacement migration” have demonstrated that while migration can serve as a tool to offset population decline and aging, doing so may necessitate extremely high and sustained levels of immigration. Immigrants, too, age over time; they become integrated into the social system, bringing with them their families, children, and their own educational and healthcare needs. Consequently, “more migration”—taken in isolation—does not constitute a sustainable demographic policy (https://www.un.org/development/desa/pd/sites/www.un.org.development.desa.pd/files/unpd-egm_200010_un_2001_replacementmigration.pdf).

Migration also entails societal costs. Rapid and unplanned migration can place significant strain on the housing market, schools, healthcare services, and local government institutions. Without provisions for language training, professional credential recognition, equitable employment opportunities, and robust measures to combat discrimination, integration efforts are liable to fail. Such failure not only victimizes the immigrants themselves but also fuels anti-immigrant sentiment within the host community.

Another critical issue concerns the countries of origin. When affluent nations attract physicians, nurses, engineers, and academics, poorer or more fragile nations risk losing their skilled human capital. The World Bank notes that while migration can yield benefits for countries of origin—such as remittances and the transfer of knowledge—it may simultaneously heighten the risk of a “brain drain” in certain nations. Particularly in countries with weak healthcare systems, this loss can be a problem not merely economic but one that directly impacts human lives (https://www.worldbank.org/en/publication/wdr2023).

It is also necessary to examine the rationale behind anti-migration policies. Each country’s capacity for integration, housing availability, public services, and social equilibrium must be taken into account. Unplanned, uncontrolled migration can create problems for both the local population and migrants themselves. However, it would be incorrect to conclude from this that we should simply “close the doors.” Refugee protection is both an international and a moral obligation. Portraying migrants solely as a burden or a threat distorts reality and fuels xenophobia.

In reality, migration is not without alternatives; yet, a solution entirely devoid of migration is equally unrealistic. To achieve a fairer migration policy, migrants must not be viewed merely as economic instruments. Partnerships in education, healthcare, and science should be established with countries of origin, and “brain circulation”—rather than “brain drain”—should be encouraged. Support should be provided to enable migrant academics and experts to maintain ties with their countries of origin, undertake collaborative projects, and contribute to knowledge transfer.

In aging societies, migration can be part of a broader social policy package. It is natural for host countries to consider factors such as female employment, healthy aging, education, technology, family support, and their responsibilities toward countries of origin. However, forced migration—driven by humanitarian and political imperatives—occupies a distinct category. Here, on one side lie the acute concerns of human life, liberty, and security; on the other, the long-term economic and demographic interests of states. Naturally, countries must take into account their own capacities, societal equilibria, and potential for integration. Yet, the immediate preservation of human life cannot be sacrificed to long-term calculations of self-interest. Consequently, when issues such as war, persecution, political repression, the suppression of academic freedoms, or the violation of fundamental human rights are at stake, supporting migration is not merely a choice, but a moral imperative. The fundamental challenge lies not in evaluating migration solely through a cost-benefit analysis, but in making it more equitable, humane, and responsible for both host and origin societies.

Simply telling young people to “put down the phone” is not enough. We must show them a future that is worth putting the phone down for.

In the modern economy, it is no longer just labor, capital, and knowledge that are in competition; human attention, too, has become a marketable resource. Social media platforms, short-form video apps, online games, cryptocurrency markets, betting culture, and promises of quick riches are all chasing after the same scarce resource: the time and attention of young people.

For this reason, the concept of the “attention economy” is not merely a technological issue. It is a matter intertwined with education, employment, mental health, social inequality, and human capital. This issue takes on even greater significance in societies where youth education and employment rates are low.

There is a specific term used to describe young people who are neither in education, nor in employment, nor in vocational training: NEET (Youth not in employment, education or training) (https://www.oecd.org/en/data/indicators/youth-not-in-employment-education-or-training-neet.html). According to Eurostat data, in 2024, approximately 11% of young people aged 15–29 within the European Union fell into the NEET category (https://ec.europa.eu/eurostat/statistics-explained/index.php?title=Statistics_on_young_people_neither_in_employment_nor_in_education_or_training). In Turkey, this picture is far worse. Reports based on youth data from TurkStat indicate that 23.3% of young people aged 15–24 are neither in education nor in employment (https://www.hurriyetdailynews.com/amp/nearly-one-in-four-young-people-in-turkiye-neither-studying-nor-employed-data-shows-222131). These figures go beyond mere economic statistics; they reflect society’s forward-looking capacity for production, learning, and renewal.

For a young person to cultivate a long-term skill, time, discipline, repetition, and patience are required. Learning a language, acquiring a trade, gaining academic depth, developing software, becoming a skilled artisan, mastering scientific inquiry, or specializing in a field that generates social value—none of these occur overnight. Yet, the attention economy constantly offers individuals rewards that are faster, easier, and more stimulating. Short-form videos, instant “likes,” rapidly consumable content, and tales of speculative riches are causing long-term effort to give way to short-term dopamine loops.

The most dangerous aspect of this cycle is not merely that it results in wasted time. More importantly, it fundamentally alters the expectation structure of young people. As the concept of success—traditionally built upon hard work, education, professional expertise, and social contribution—begins to erode, the allure of “rising to the top overnight,” “going viral,” “getting rich through crypto,” “making a fortune in the stock market,” “becoming an influencer,” or “securing one’s future via a shortcut” grows ever stronger. Of course, there are individuals who achieve success in these arenas. However, these are, more often than not, exceptional cases. The attention economy highlights these exceptions while rendering invisible the losses incurred by the majority—and the time they have squandered.

Here, a “winner-takes-all” logic prevails. While a select few attain immense visibility, substantial income, or massive financial gains, a far larger multitude merely expends their hours, their attention, and their capacity for learning. This situation proves particularly devastating for vulnerable young people. Young people who have become disengaged from education, failed to enter the labor market, struggled to find their vocational path, or whose hopes for the future have dimmed may be more likely to gravitate toward speculative pursuits rather than engage in patient skill-building. This is because long-term paths may appear closed off, arduous, or meaningless to them, whereas short-term promises seem more attainable.

It is inappropriate to approach this issue solely through the lens of moral panic. Generalizations such as “young people are lazy,” “they have been corrupted by their phones,” or “things weren’t like this in the past” can prevent us from recognizing the structural dimensions of the problem. For the issue at hand is not merely a matter of weak individual willpower. On one side lies high youth unemployment, a mismatch between education and employment, job insecurity, and stalled social mobility; on the other stand algorithmic systems designed by the world’s most powerful corporations specifically to capture and retain human attention. The young individual often finds themselves isolated amidst these two converging pressures.

The OECD’s assessments of children’s lives in the digital age also underscore this complexity. Social media use does not have the same effect on every child or young person; rather, the nature of the content, the manner of use, existing offline vulnerabilities, and one’s social environment can be decisive factors. However, particular emphasis is placed on the fact that, especially among vulnerable adolescents, social media use may be linked to addiction-like behaviors and stress. Consequently, the issue is not merely “screen time,” but rather which psychological and social voids the screen serves to fill (https://www.oecd.org/en/publications/how-s-life-for-children-in-the-digital-age_0854b900-en/full-report/introduction-and-main-findings_67c79516.html).

It is no coincidence that, today, many countries are attempting to limit children’s and adolescents’ social media usage or to regulate the addictive designs of these platforms. Within the European Union, new regulations targeting manipulative and addictive digital designs are currently under discussion; meanwhile, in various countries—most notably Australia—age restrictions regarding children’s access to social media are being brought to the agenda. These developments demonstrate that the “attention economy” is no longer a simple issue that can be resolved solely through individual family upbringing (https://www.reuters.com/world/eu-targets-social-media-protect-children-von-der-leyen-says-2026-05-12/).

However, prohibitions and restrictions alone are insufficient. The fundamental challenge is to once again offer young people a meaningful vision of the future. If a young person does not believe they can build a future through education, a profession, science, the arts, a craft, or social contribution, it is simply impossible to divert their attention away from screens. When this vacant attention is not filled with a meaningful objective, it will inevitably revert to the same cycle.

Therefore, the most potent response to the attention economy is not merely a “digital detox,” but rather a focus on the skills economy, the work ethic, and policies of social justice. Young people’s access to quality education, career guidance, internship and employment opportunities, academic freedom, spaces for cultural production, and safe social environments must be actively supported. Young people classified as NEETs should not be viewed merely as a statistical category, but rather as potential scientists, teachers, physicians, technicians, artists, entrepreneurs, and citizens—individuals whom society runs the risk of losing.

A society’s human capital does not vanish overnight. First, attention becomes fragmented; then, the motivation to learn wanes; subsequently, skill development is disrupted; and finally, hope for the future begins to fade. Ultimately, high-quality human capital melts away like snow in the sun. To halt this erosion, simply telling young people to “put down the phone” is not enough. We must show them a future worth putting the phone down for.