On Oct.4, a 19-year-old man, Semih Çelik, carried out a horrifying double murder in Istanbul, brutally killing two young women within half an hour before ending his own life. Çelik’s body plummeted from the city’s historic ramparts shortly after the severed head of his second
victim, İkbal Uzuner—a former classmate he had been obsessed with—hit the pavement below.
The public’s horror deepened as the grisly details emerged. Çelik had been under psychiatric care several times in recent years. His parents revealed to local media that his teenage years had been marked by erratic behavior, shifting from religious fervor to severe depression. He dropped out of school, attempted suicide, and was confined to his room for much of the last year, spending time online in incel communities. His life ended in a savage act of violence, first killing Aysenur Halil, a student he had dated for months, before meeting Uzuner at the ramparts, where he dismembered her before taking his own life.
Turkey, sadly, is no stranger to femicide. The brutal murders of women have been a recurring and unsettling feature of the national landscape. In 2009, the beheaded body of 17-year-old Münevver Karabulut was found in a trash bin, murdered by her wealthy boyfriend. Six years later, Özgecan Aslan, a 20-year-old student, was killed after fighting off a rape attempt by a minibus driver, whose accomplices helped burn and dismember her body. In 2019, Pınar Gültekin was murdered by her ex-boyfriend, who, along with his family and friends, attempted to burn her remains to hide the crime. In 2022, Başak Cengiz was killed in a random attack by a man wielding a samurai sword on the streets of Istanbul. Unlike most femicide victims in Turkey—typically killed by partners or ex-partners—Cengiz had no connection to her attacker. “I just wanted to kill someone,” he later said, “and I thought a woman would be easier.”
BAD RECORD
Turkey’s track record on protecting women is grim, with femicides rising by 82% over the last seven years, the highest rate in the OECD. We Will Stop Femicides Platform, the most outspoken group on violence against women, said men killed 34 women in September, adding that 20 women had died “under suspicious circumstances,” meaning some of them might also be femicides disguised as suicide or natural causes. Women's organizations lay the blame on a culture of impunity, emboldened by the government’s 2021 withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention, a pan-European treaty aimed at combating violence against women. The decision to scrap the convention has been followed by waves of protests, including last weekend’s demonstrations in response to the double murder in Istanbul. Slogans condemning the government filled the streets: “Stop Watching, Apply the Law,” “Femicides are Political,” and “Stop Killers, Not Women Protesters.”
In a bitter twist, two men protesting the murders at the ramparts were jailed and put in the same prison with men threatening female demonstrators with knives.
ESCALATING VIOLENCE
Özer Sancar, head of the MetroPOLL polling company, revealed that three out of four Turks believe women are not safe in the country. This sentiment is most pronounced among main opposition CHP supporters, with 90% agreeing, but even among AKP voters, nearly two-thirds share the same concern.
The irony lies in the fact that some of the AKP's most ardent supporters were vocal advocates for Turkey’s withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention, arguing that it undermined “family unity” and had been “hijacked by an LGBTI agenda.” Erdoğan’s far-right allies, including Hüda-Par and the Yeniden Refah Party, have also campaigned for the repeal of Law 6824, which protects domestic violence victims by enabling swift restraining orders. They argue these measures often “break apart families.” In contrast, AKP-aligned women’s groups like KADEM counter that if one partner resorts to violence, the family is already fractured. Despite their protests, their voices were ignored when Erdoğan withdrew Turkey from the convention.
Following the brutal murders of women and children, Erdoğan has acknowledged the need for new measures, vowing to fill “every gap” that leaves Turks feeling unsafe—from combating crime to introducing harsher punishments for repeat offenders. He noted that upcoming regulations would allow for the pretrial detention of individuals with extensive criminal histories, something long requested by lawyers. Many violent offenders, out on bail, have harmed or killed women before facing final verdicts. However, Erdoğan has attempted to deflect blame for femicides onto opposition chair Özgür Özel, stating, “You claim to oppose femicides, yet you encourage alcohol consumption... Alcohol is the main driver of violence against women and children.” (See Inside Turkey for more details from Erdoğan and Justice Minister Yılmaz Tunç)
INCELS AND IMPUNITY
Turkey’s femicide crisis reflects a broader societal breakdown: escalating violence, weakened legal protections, and a culture that too often disregards a woman’s identity as an individual rather than part of a family.
The femicides are not only increasing in number but also becoming more and more violent, with perpetrators either employing torture or dismembering the body, warn psychologists. The detailed and repetitive sharing of suicide methods or murders on social media serves to increase copycats, such as dismemberment. The sharing of clips of violence - against animals, children, and women - occurs among ever-growing incel groups, where Çelik was reportedly active. Turkey banned the social media platform Discord this week.
The incel culture, rooted in resentment towards women, has also gained ground in Turkey. This subculture has flourished amid a climate of declining protections for women, feeding into a broader societal trend of hostility toward gender equality. Government rhetoric, which often frames traditional family values as paramount, has further exacerbated the situation, leaving women more vulnerable to violence.
Turkey’s economic turmoil—marked by high inflation, youth unemployment, and limited opportunities—has left many young men frustrated and disillusioned. This economic malaise has also contributed to rising aggression, with personal despair manifesting in outward acts of violence. This demographic, already grappling with financial strain, is prone to feelings of emasculation, which often turn into rage.
Legal shortcomings, slow judicial processes, and impunity for the wealthy and politically connected only exacerbate the crisis. In rural areas, families and communities often protect perpetrators, as seen in the case of seven-year-old Narin’s murder, where her death was met with silence. In urban centers, influential families, such as the Garipoğlu family involved in the Karabulut case, have been accused of using their wealth and connections to evade justice. Conservative politicians and pro-government media even go so far as to blame victims, perpetuating a toxic narrative: “Why was she with him in a remote spot?”
