BBC Journalist Mark Lowen's Unexpected Deportation from Turkey

Following the arrest of Istanbul's mayor, BBC reporter Mark Lowen was detained and subsequently deported by Turkish authorities after just three days of reporting embedded with protestors. His story highlights the ongoing struggle for press freedom and the climate of authoritarianism in Turkey.

I had just sent my family a message expressing my joy at being back in Turkey, a country I once called home. But moments later, a call from the hotel receptionist would change everything. Upon arrival at the lobby, I was greeted by three plain-clothes police officers who requested my passport and escorted me out, attempting to shield my colleagues from capturing the events.

During my brief three-day stay in Istanbul, I was focused on covering the protests ignited by the detainment of the city's mayor, Ekrem Imamoglu. I was first taken to police headquarters and held there for seven hours, while two of my colleagues were allowed to be present and lawyers were permitted to consult with me. The environment was relatively amicable—some officers even expressed their disagreement with what they labeled as a state decision. One officer even hugged me, expressing hopes for my release.

As the clock struck 9:30 PM, I was relocated to the foreigners' custody unit of the Istanbul police, where the atmosphere shifted significantly. I found myself navigating difficult conversations with chain-smoking officers in broken Turkish, had my fingerprints taken, and was denied both legal representation and contact with anyone outside the facility. Subsequently, I received deportation orders, branded as "a threat to public order," but was given no specific rationale. An officer offered to film me claiming I was leaving voluntarily—a suggestion I declined, suspecting it was aimed at crafting a narrative favorable to the government.

By 2:30 AM, I was transported to the airport's foreigners' custody section, where sleep evaded me amidst the chaotic environment of police officers coming and going, the sounds of planes taking off, and the call to prayer echoing. Seventeen hours post-detention, I found myself on a flight back to London, marking the abrupt end to my coverage of the protests. The Turkish government's press office later positioned my lack of proper accreditation as the reason for my deportation, a justification they hadn't offered during my detention.

Throughout this troubling experience, I was never physically mistreated, and I recognized that support from BBC management and the British Consulate played a pivotal role in my release. This protective layer is sadly absent for many others in Turkey who oppose the authorities. During my prior tenure as the BBC's Istanbul correspondent from 2014 to 2019, I witnessed Turkey's troubling status as the world's leading jailer of journalists. Currently, Reporters Without Borders ranks Turkey at 158th in its Press Freedom Index.

The unrest I observed primarily stemmed from Imamoglu’s arrest, who poses a significant electoral threat to President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. The protests have burgeoned into a broader demand for democracy against a backdrop of escalating authoritarianism. The government's continued crackdown on dissent underscores their efforts to silence any discourse that could challenge their power.

As President Erdogan dismisses the protests as "street terrorism," his administration appears emboldened by favorable relations with international allies and Turkey's strategic relevance in geopolitical affairs. Moving forward, we must wonder whether these substantial demonstrations can maintain their momentum, or if Erdogan will succeed in stifling the call for change, despite the protesters’ resolute chants of "enough."