Although Bahadır Altan is a peace and ecology activist, he is publicly known mostly as a war pilot. At the conference 'The Road to Peace: Memory and Justice' organized by the Human Rights Association (IHD) in Amed on June 21–22, he and others discussed the severe human rights violations, social destruction, and the need for justice stemming from the protracted conflict, sharing their own experiences.

We spoke with Bahadır Altan about this conference, his impressions, and the turning points in the Kurdish issue from his perspective.

Altan described the conference broadly and recounted his story as follows: "At the İHD meeting, people who had experienced the pains of war spoke one by one, and representatives of various institutions came together to discuss how to organize a peace process and establish a lasting and honorable peace. For example, the moderator of the first session was Ulaş Bayraktar, who is also a peace academic. The fact that he had lost his father as a soldier in the war and began by telling his story conveyed the gravity of the issue. In both sessions, everyone shared their experiences in this conflict and their current reflections. Most were mothers who had lost their children or people who had lost their fathers.

I also shared some of what I have lived through. In fact, I have never liked being referred to as a ‘war pilot,’ but something happened there that moved me deeply: one of the Peace Mothers said to me, ‘You are now a peace pilot,’ and that honored me greatly. If I have become that, I thought, I am glad. Looking back, even during the time I served as a war pilot, I was never a conventional soldier. During the 12 September [1980 coup] period, I was detained and tortured twice with my friends. Almost all my friends were expelled from the military. Of the four pilots who were not expelled, I was one, but I remained in the army as ‘personnel under suspicion.’ Of course, I am very glad that I left without taking part in this war—which could be called a war crime. Mostly, I worked as an instructor and test pilot.

When this process started, in 1990, I effectively left, and by 1992, I had completely resigned from the Air Force. Despite trying to shield ourselves from parts of our military training—thanks to our socialist identity—we were still influenced by some things. For instance, we have developed an internal justification that being a war pilot could be acceptable as an anti-imperialist homeland defense."

Why did you teach me these things!

Altan said that even when he was in the military, he was declared "personnel under suspicion," and described how he experienced a personal rupture regarding the Kurdish question: "I had various moments of rupture over the issue of war. In the 1990s, when I was in Izmir, I got a phone call in the middle of the night. It was from one of my students, who directly asked, ‘Why did you teach me these things?’ At that time, I wasn’t training new pilots but teaching experienced pilots how to conduct warfare. The fact that my student was holding me to account like this, saying, ‘Why did you teach me these things? We are now bombing our own villages’, was a profound breaking point for me. Indeed, in 1990, the Air Force was being used against the Kurds in what was called ‘the fight against terrorism.’ Villages were evacuated, areas thought to harbor guerrillas were bombed, forests were burned. Those were the bloodiest times.

Later, with that perspective, I made it my path to struggle for peace. By 1992, I had left the military entirely. That breaking point reflects a truth: firstly, this was not a ‘fight against terrorism.’ We were war pilots, and this was a war. Using planes—especially ones like F-4 Phantoms or F-16s, which were designed to attack large strategic targets—against people with rifles or Kalashnikovs hiding in the mountains was inherently wrong, even from a military doctrine perspective. But the real turning point for me, which I also shared at the conference, was a briefing in Diyarbakır in 1986 given to about 100 pilots by a general, then head of General Staff Intelligence. He presented aerial photos showing PKK camps—where they crossed, trained, stayed. Then he asked if there were any questions.

No one asked anything, but I had no expectation or fear of the military anymore. As I said, I had already been detained twice during the 12 September period and branded ‘suspect.’ So I asked: ‘Which side does the local population support?’ The general said, ‘The people support the PKK.’ Encouraged by that answer, I continued: ‘Then aren’t we rowing in vain? We are scattering wheat on concrete, hoping it will sprout. We say Kurds don’t exist, yet I can’t understand the language spoken outside. We say there is no Kurdish, but I don’t understand what people are speaking in the street. How is this going to work?’ The general said, ‘We don’t say Kurds don’t exist.’ But that was exactly the period when Kenan Evren was saying, ‘There are no Kurds.’ It was the first time I heard someone officially contradict that. He went on: ‘The state does not apologize, the state does not say I was wrong. The state changes tactics, changes policies. But the general strategy remains the same.’ That was the conversation.

Yes, then the state did make a tactical change, but it was not a policy change. They stopped saying ‘Kurds do not exist.’ They started Kurdish broadcasts on TRT 6. But they still haven’t said, ‘Kurds do exist.’ Even in parliament, it is still referred to as ‘an unknown language.’ Because no right tactic built on a fundamentally wrong strategy can succeed. The strategy itself is wrong. A strategy must fit reality, the nature of things. Now, since the state is taking a step in this direction, that is valuable. No one expects democratization from AKP or MHP. But if the state sees this mistake and takes a step, peace is possible. And once peace comes, you don’t have to love the person you make peace with; you don’t have to embrace them. You just have to stop fighting, and that’s what matters."

The state must turn peace into a social demand

Highlighting the importance of such events, Bahadır Altan emphasized that the state must turn peace into a demand within society: "Talking about all this is incredibly valuable—there is no other way to learn lessons from what happened. Even if it’s unpleasant, we must discuss it. What İHD accomplished in Diyarbakır was the effort to bring together those who have experienced these things. In that sense, it was very important and a first. Of course, Kurds have so much experience in recounting their suffering. In every family, at least one person has either been killed, imprisoned, disappeared, tortured, or witnessed it. But the main goal of İHD—I’m also a member—was to bring together the families of soldiers and guerrillas in a broader way. Having soldier families participate would have been crucial for building the path to peace, but unfortunately, that was not achieved very well. For example, although there were two soldier families at the conference, it wasn’t enough.

There is also this: certain benefits are offered by the state to the families of soldiers. Compensation has been paid to the siblings of deceased soldiers, or pensions have been granted to their families. Of course, among Kurds, there is no such thing... For example, when the war flared up again in 2015, Kamuran Erkaçmaz held an exhibition called ‘Two Faces of Pain’ in Tophane. Kamuran spoke with both soldier and guerrilla families, producing an exhibition of photos and audio recordings. Three soldier families who were part of that exhibition were going to come. But they backed out, and one father told me, ‘I was going to come, but my nephews said, are you going to mess with our livelihood, will you get us fired?—so I didn’t come.’ Unfortunately, this is also part of the reality.

Those who truly want peace are doing something about it—organizing conferences, calling for peace. People who have suffered raise their voices for peace despite their pain. But on the Turkish side, the state side, there is no such effort at all. When we say the state must take steps, we mean steps toward a democratic society, steps toward democracy. The state must take steps to make peace a demand within society. Because ultimately, the ones who must reconcile are society itself. Without Kurds and Turks together expressing a will to become a democratic society, peace cannot happen. Because there is a rising anger and hatred on both sides of society. When there is hatred and rage at the grassroots, building peace is impossible.

For example, in Izmir, we founded the Izmir Peace Forum. Its first gathering was quite grand and crowded. There, on stage, I embraced a former guerrilla who had been in the mountains while I was in the Air Force and later spent 32 years in prison. We said: ‘Yes, this was a war, and if we embrace each other, no one has any right to say anything.’ When the war ends, we can build a democratic society. But if we keep fighting, there is no hope. There is no road to peace—peace itself is a journey. Therefore, a democratic society itself is a journey. There is a long road to honorable peace. We must be on that road."