Amid a difficult environment for media in Turkey, with both economic challenges and political repression, journalists are often forced to move abroad to continue their work. Fellowship programmes and grants, which offer resources such as professional training, funds to cover relocation and living costs, or psychological and legal support, can be a vital lifeline. But do these initiatives come with their own limitations too – particularly for women?
“I find that the most crucial issue is that the visa provided under these programmes does not include a work permit. That leaves you stranded from your profession,” says journalist Özgür Şimşek, who was jailed for five and a half years in Turkey and left for Germany after her release.
“Not being able to work for the duration of the programme actually leads to a dulling of your professional reflexes. There are of course also the disadvantages of a language barrier and trouble feeling a sense of belonging.”
Şimşek, who is keen to stress that she greatly appreciated the support of a fellowship in Germany run by an international organisation, also sees a risk in the way women are asked to present themselves to funding bodies. Applications sometimes ask journalists to disclose private details of the incidents that forced them to leave Turkey, or even to provide proof.
“These conditions unfortunately make it harder sometimes to shed the label of ‘victim,’” she says, since being known for having been detained can create significant challenges.
“Once you’ve been ‘flagged’ by the state, even your news sources might hesitate to reach out to you or engage with you. I personally experienced this after being released from prison. It’s also worth noting that after being flagged, even finding a job becomes difficult. Many media outlets may reject you when they see your prison record on your CV.”
Alina Toropova, director of the European Centre for Press and Media Freedom (ECPMF)’s journalists-in-residence programme, says that in her experience no programme has been sufficiently adapted to cater for women’s needs. Toropova notes that the difficulties and risks for women journalists differ significantly from those of their male colleagues. Women face the threat of sexual harassment or assault far more frequently, while in certain cultural contexts their ability to move around and access information can be made more difficult.
“I don’t think all women need the same kind of support,” Toropova adds. “I believe there should be a variety of offers available to select from – for one person, taking the stage and telling about her story publicly is an empowering moment; for other women, a closed peer-to-peer support group is more helpful.
“Some women find it important that their gender is taken into consideration, others prefer not to be distinguished by their gender,” she says.
A well-known journalist in Turkey, Hazal Ocak reports freelance on climate, environment and urban topics – work for which she has been targeted with numerous legal cases. She thinks fellowship programmes give journalists much-needed breathing space and open up new opportunities.
Even so, Ocak says, “I waited a long time before applying for any programme abroad. I worried about whether I would be able to work as a regular journalist and carry on with my life.” There are difficulties, she added, in adapting to life abroad, whether it’s a short stay or a long one.
Şimşek agrees – and points out that one of the greatest challenges faced when participating in support programs abroad is the frequent lack of a work visa.
Damla Tarhan Durmuş, a media freedom campaigner, says that it’s hard to carry on with one’s profession in new circumstances, particularly in a new language. Financial aid helps reduce stress and worry over basic needs by covering living costs, which in turn helps journalists focus on their work. Fellowships that aim to foster community, meanwhile, provide additional help.
“This interaction helps journalists realise they’re not alone, providing invaluable moral support,” Durmuş says.
One disadvantage Durmuş points out is that programmes are often short-term and journalists struggle at the end of this term to continue living on their own in their destination country.
“Just as they begin to adjust, they may find themselves needing to start over. Additionally, having benefited from one support program can make it difficult to access assistance from other organisations,” she says.
Toropova says that while organisations might be able to mitigate challenges for women journalists, they might not be able to remove them entirely. If a programme is explicitly for journalists under threat, for instance, applicants will inevitably be asked about their situation.
“This is usually done for verification and assessment reasons,” she says. “Unfortunately these kinds of conversations might be retraumatising, but I’ve also met people who said they thought, ‘Finally, someone took time to listen to me.’”
Toropova says conversations of this sort should ideally be accompanied or led by a professional psychologist, which is something not many NGOs can afford. While Toropova is keen to stress that she is neither a psychologist nor a social worker, she has undertaken trauma-sensitive training, which she believes is important for NGOs working with vulnerable groups.
“One of the most important lessons I have learned is to be an attentive listener and avoid pressuring journalists to share anything that might retraumatise them. It is always helpful to educate yourself about the context of the person’s background and understand the appropriate language to address sensitive topics,” she says.
“From my experience, women who face threats usually feel more comfortable sharing [their stories] with another woman,” Toropova says, adding that this should be taken into consideration by programmes targeting at-risk journalists.
Conferences and public events organised by institutions supporting journalists can also be risky territory, she adds. If an at-risk journalist is invited to share her story, then organisers need to consider the effects. “How the journalist is presented by the moderator, how questions are structured, what’s the emphasis of the journalist’s presentation, who’s in the audience – many things can go wrong, or right,” she says.
For an example of how not to do it, Toropova describes a hypothetical situation in which a moderator focuses their questions exclusively on the threats to a female panellist’s safety, without first giving her the chance to present her professional achievements. Even if unintentional, this can affect how she is perceived by the audience – as a victim, rather than a journalist.
What changes need to be made to support programmes for women journalists? Şimşek believes programmes should prioritise the profession of journalism and offer more training and workshops, while Ocak suggests networking opportunities with local journalists and media outlets are important.
Toropova, meanwhile, thinks that programmes need to be flexible and give women the opportunity to determine how they are presented publicly, if at all.
“The aim of support programs like ours at ECPMF is not to manage the lives of journalists but to assist where it is possible and needed,” she says.
Durmuş stresses the importance of long-term thinking. “When institutional support ends after a few years, it’s very important to guide women journalists and, if possible, to draw up a systematic plan with the support of the destination state,” she says. “Otherwise, these journalists will not be able to focus on their profession because they will be thinking about where and how they will live and make a living.”