Granted, Arab society, with its race and nation, is fragmented into a thousand pieces. But that's another story.

Arabic is a grand language. Yet, our Turkish is not inferior in its expressive power, conciseness, and agility.

For instance, our suffix “-ci/-çi” offers almost limitless usage possibilities!

The term “sığınmacı” (asylum seeker), which we now use instead of “mülteci” (refugee), emerged this way.

“Sığınmak” (to seek refuge) is a word loaded with strong meaning.

Although “sığıntı” (dependent), derived from the same root, carries a pejorative connotation, it remains a powerful word.

The "asylum seeker" issue we face in our country today, however, has lost its connection to these meanings.

Many asylum seekers in our country have already become Turkish citizens, making them hosts rather than guests.

It’s been said before, but it bears repeating: The millions of asylum seekers, whether they are our citizens or not, with their scientifically determined high birth rates, could outnumber the native population in the not-too-distant future, making the natives feel like refugees in their own land. Arabic could replace Turkish, naturally leading to the adoption of the Arabic alphabet, and the name of the Republic of Turkey will undoubtedly change accordingly.

Is this a pessimistic outlook? I don’t think so. History has seen such occurrences, and there's no reason it can't happen today.

Recent Events and the Asylum Seeker Issue

We need to examine the recent events in one of our cities regarding the asylum seeker issue from multiple angles.

Explaining the societal anger, which led to the destruction of homes, workplaces, and vehicles, as merely a reaction to an unfortunate event is, in my opinion, insufficient.

What characteristics allowed those with "asylum seeker" status to become homeowners, business owners, and car owners in such a short time?

This is the question that needs to be asked.

Personal Experience with Political Asylum

In early 1984, during the most repressive period of the September 12 coup, I spent nearly a year in prison and was later sentenced to eight years. Escaping the country illegally and facing real danger, I became a political asylum seeker.

I lived for nearly a year in a small room lent by a friend in that country. Later, I managed to bring my five-year-old daughter and her mother out of the country illegally, and we lived together in an attic room we could afford to rent for about a year.

During that year, my wife and I slept on a fold-out couch, while our daughter slept on a portable bed that could only be half opened because it was pushed up against our bed. I still remember noticing that her legs had grown longer as she slept with her feet resting on our bed.

We experienced this despite being educated and knowing the language of the country we sought asylum in (France).

For me, "political asylum" means hardship and pain. By 1990, when my sentences were lifted, we had somewhat settled in that country, and our daughter was nearing the end of her primary education there. Nevertheless, we returned to our homeland without hesitation.

Five years into our asylum, we didn't even consider applying for citizenship, which was our legal right, and returned home immediately.

Current Situation in Turkey

What is happening in Turkey today under the guise of "political asylum" clearly has no real connection to this concept. It is a project imposed on our beloved country by the current administration to alter, confuse, and steer us away from the Enlightenment ideals of the Republic.

It is a crime against the integrity, happiness, and future of our country. Those who use some asylum seekers as cheap labor are complicit in this crime.