Serdar Vardar,
As the dust begins to settle in Turkey, questions are being asked about construction scams and the politics that allowed unsafe structures to be built.
In southeastern Turkey, despair is turning into righteous indignation. On February 6, an area roughly the size of mainland Portugal was struck by two powerful earthquakes. The first, at 4:17 a.m. local time (0117 GMT), measured 7.8 on the Richter scale; the second, just nine hours later, measured 7.6.
The earthquake, which also hit northern Syria, claimed more than 35,000 lives in Turkey and 6,000 in Syria. Those numbers have been rising by the hour.
According to Turkish authorities, nearly 13 million people in 10 cities have been affected, and at least 33,143 buildings have either collapsed, been severely damaged or require immediate demolition. The number is likely to rise as officials continue to assess the damage.
An estimated 1 million people are currently without shelter. Most of them are living in tents or student dormitories.
Now, as the public’s initial shock wears off and the dust settles, the sheer scale of the devastation is becoming even more apparent. And with that also comes the question of who is to blame.
“Destiny’s plan includes such things,” Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan told an earthquake victim during his brief visit to the region, 56 hours after the disaster.
In response, many locals asked on social media, “Why doesn’t destiny ever visit Japan?”
Turkish Vice President Fuat Oktay pointed the finger at 134 builders from the region who have been arrested across the country on suspicion of shoddy or negligent construction. Some were arrested at airports as they attempted to flee the country with large sums of cash.
The Ministry of Justice sent a letter to prosecutors to establish “Earthquake Crime Investigation Offices.”
But the recent history of earthquake investigations in Turkey raises the question of whether senior officials, who were allegedly negligent in the inspection and approval processes, will actually be punished. That has not been the case in the past.
Scars of history
This is not the first time Turkey has woken to such a disaster.
On August 17, 1999, a 7.4 magnitude earthquake struck just 100 kilometers (62 miles) from Istanbul, killing more than 18,000 people. That disaster left scars on the nation, and in 2001, new legislation was enacted for the inspection and construction of earthquake-resistant buildings. These regulations were updated in 2018 to adapt to more recent technical and scientific standards.
We thought that, in good faith, the buildings built after 2001 were less risky throughout the country. But the data we received from the region has changed our perspective,” said Haluk Sucuoglu, a professor of engineering at the Middle East Technical University in Ankara and director of the Structural and Earthquake Engineering Laboratory there. He added that there are plenty of plans, laws and regulations but no action.
“It’s like having a great judicial system, but no law enforcement to catch criminals,” he said.
According to the Turkish Statistical Institute, 51% of the citizens of 10 provinces affected by the earthquake lived in buildings built after 2001.
Fraud and political influence
Sucuoglu says that even the officials responsible for enforcing the laws have admitted to him many times that construction companies, especially in smaller cities, have political influence and use it to avoid being supervised. The companies are more focused on maximizing their profits than on building safety, he says.
According to regulations introduced in 2001, buildings have to be inspected by expert auditing firms. But until recently, auditing firms were selected and paid for by the contractors themselves. This, of course, creates a conflict of interest.
“We know that construction companies even opened the auditing firms and inspected their own construction standards,” Sucuoglu said.
But the auditing firms are not the only ones responsible for approving construction. The municipality also issues a license for the building. If the municipality does not, then the central administration in Ankara can.
Lawyer Murat Kemal Gunduz says that the Ministry of Environment can issue licenses for large projects and mass housing. Gunduz also emphasizes that, according to the law, the ministry’s main responsibility is to monitor all licenses issued.
Winning votes
The phrase “Imar Barisi” or “construction amnesty” is a term that is often heard before elections in Turkey. It refers to any regulation that legalizes previously illegal constructions. It grants amnesty — in exchange for a fee — to buildings that don’t have permits or comply with building codes. Experts say governments use it as a way to win votes before elections.
“Construction amnesty means unsafe structures,” says Eyup Muhcu, president of the Chamber of Architects of Turkey. The Chamber’s own building was the only one left standing in its part of the city of Kahramanmaras.
According to the latest related regulations, initiated on June 8, 2018, and signed by Erdogan, buildings that violate zoning laws will be legalized “in accordance with the home owner’s declaration,” allowing the state to withdraw from any responsibility.
Muhcu believes that it is the duty of the state to ensure the safety of citizens’ lives and property and that such regulations contradict that duty. He says the regulation should be considered null and void because it acts against the Turkish state’s basic responsibilities.
“The reason there is illegal construction in this country is because of those who issue these amnesties, namely the government,” says Muhcu. “Some people are making money from these illegal constructions; some resources are being transferred somewhere. In fact, these people were killed under the supervision of the state itself.”