"The prison van arrives and returns, don't let the journalists be late..."

Why the Azerbaijani authorities use various institutions for the purpose of arresting journalists, writers, commentators, scientists, and activists is incomprehensible.

Why should journalists detained by the police be sent to the prosecutor's office and then to court?

If a statement is issued saying, "So-and-so was detained by the police and sentenced to 8 years in prison 10 minutes later," without any hesitation, what could be wrong with this?

Or will you prepare witnesses in court, both in the police and in the prosecutor's office, to testify against these individuals, as if that weren’t enough, and create many scenarios that are never true? Witnesses will implicate not only themselves but also the prosecutors and judges. Why not simply adopt the fastest, cheapest, and least painful method: "The police detained and fined them"?

In November 2011, shortly after TRT announcer began reading the 134-page indictment of the Odatv trial, Prof. Yalçın Küçük remarked, “Madam, you read so well that I felt guilty from the start.”

After finishing the indictment, he requested to speak from his defendant's chair, stating: "This indictment was not written by a prosecutor of the Republic of Turkey but by a police cadet. Please bring me an indictment authored by a Turkish prosecutor."

Recalling the brief trailer of what I witnessed in courts formed by police, prosecutors, and FETÖ judges...

Since July 2023, I’ve lost count of the articles I’ve written about the arrests of scientists, journalists, commentators, and activists.

While praying to finish this article without hearing about another arrest, news arrived of the detention of political scientist Azer Gasimli.

Please do not misunderstand me; there are approximately 98 degrees of de-escalation between the "arrest" process by the police and imprisonment.

Azer Gasimli learned about his pending arrest about two weeks ago when he was prevented from boarding a flight abroad due to a prosecutor’s travel ban.

The late Necmettin Erbakan, when members of his party were banned from politics or when his parties were dissolved, once said, “The machine never stops.”

But even he could not have imagined the speed of Azerbaijan’s arrest machine.

Even someone like Famil Khalilov, who typed on computer keyboards with his toes due to a hand injury and spent a year in prison for criticizing the government, found himself replaced by the machine upon release. This time, it targeted lawyer Rufat Safarov.

Indeed, the machine’s gears must never remain idle; otherwise, it will stop, halting the wheel of power’s execution mechanism.

The absurdity reached new heights when, a day after Rifat Seferov’s arrest, a newspaper published an alleged audio recording of Safarov’s father proposing inappropriate behavior toward a relative in his youth.

Hold on tight: the then-minister of health once called the editor-in-chief of this newspaper a “Neanderthal.” Later, that minister was sentenced to 14 years in prison for "attempted coup." Upon his release, he expressed gratitude to the U.S. and declared his support for the Aliyev government (essentially admitting he deserved his 14-year sentence).

The "Neanderthal"-labeled journalist had long since become a tool of the government.

In such a scenario, who would not be arrested—respected journalists, writers, scientists, commentators, activists, or former ministers?

In this new wave, even employees of Berlin-based Meydan TV’s Baku office were detained and sent to prison. Among them was my dear friend Natig Javadli, a paragon of journalistic professionalism, morality, and integrity.

When the West, particularly the U.S., reacted sharply to Rufat Safarov's detention, the police responded by detaining employees of Baku's TV bureau. When the reactions continued, the political scientist Azer Gasimli was arrested.

The arrests continue unabated, and the last journalist, writer, scientist, commentator, or activist who values their honor and conscience seems destined to pass through the prison gates.

From 2008 to 2015, as the West largely ignored the arrests of journalists, Azerbaijan’s independent media was gradually squeezed out.

However, in recent years, Western relations with Baku have become increasingly strained. In November 2023, Azerbaijan’s delegation to the Council of Europe was suspended for one year. In response, Baku escalated its crackdown on journalists and activists, further angering Western leaders and international organizations.

With every arrest, the government sends a defiant message: "If you impose sanctions, we’ll arrest more citizens; if you boycott international meetings, we’ll continue our detentions." This perpetual tit-for-tat creates a cycle even a TV drama couldn’t sustain.

In the last five years, many bright young people with promising futures have been imprisoned for demanding their rights, often under baseless accusations of fraud, extortion, or other fabricated charges.

Even figures like Ramin Isayev, a Harvard and MIT graduate involved in green energy projects, have been targeted. His trial, held behind closed doors under vague charges, reflects the opaque nature of such proceedings.

This machinery of repression appears unstoppable, and the list of those detained keeps growing.
Will the cycle ever end, or will Azerbaijan’s government continue to tighten its grip on dissenting voices while facing increasing pressure from the international community? Only time will tell.

Independent Türkçe