Public support is weakening, but the death penalty will be slow to die. The government seeks to turn around its abysmal human-rights record and gain European Union membership. T he police presence is everywhere here, but can easily go unnoticed. These arbitrary detentions are in contrast to the otherwise cosmopolitan atmosphere of Turkey's most European city. In the cafes, waiters serve coffee and beer.
Patrons sit on low stools playing backgammon or talking animatedly.
But away from Istiklal Avenue, with its plush consulates and carefully tended gardens, are hidden casualties of a fading war in the predominantly Kurdish Southeast that has polarized the country. In Istanbul, as in many cities, families evacuated from the war-torn regions of the Southeast are crowded into shanties and other poorly constructed housing. With their previous sustenance based on agriculture and animal husbandry, many migrants face unemployment in the cities, and their children must work instead of going to school, to help make ends meet. The war has infuriated many Turks and created a tide of intolerance toward the Kurdish minority. For the families of slain Turkish soldiers, no single figure embodies the evil of that war more than Abdullah Ocalan.