Today is International Workers' Day, also known as May Day, a day celebrated internationally to acknowledge the efforts and achievements of labor unions around the world. May 1 comes and goes without a thought in most of the United States. Instead, Americans celebrate Labor Day on the first Monday in September with barbecues, beer and one last dip in the pool before summer ends. There are no demonstrations, no marching, no holding of signs proclaiming workers' rights, no reminder of how hard unions had to work to ensure 8-hour workdays for employees.
Of course, there's also no riot police on the streets, no tanks waiting to blast demonstrators with a hose, and no tear gas bombs ready to be thrown at unruly protesters.
I hold much respect for unions and laborers (considering that I am one, this is not surprising). I was a member of the union at the first newspaper I worked at and felt it my duty as a reporter in Philadelphia, a huge union town, to chronicle and write about workers' plights.
This year Turkey declared May 1 a public holiday and has allowed demonstrators to gather in Taksim for the first time since 1977 when shooters hiding in what is now the Marmara Hotel and other buildings opened fire on demonstrators and killed 36 people and wounded hundreds. (See a photo collage of Turkey's history with May Day here.) Since then, the government has attempted to suppress gatherings in Istanbul, and especially Taksim, on May 1. It is to the government's credit that it has finally allowed demonstrators to gather in Taksim Square this year to remember what happened there so many years ago.
But despite the fact that this year the government has declared May 1 a national public holiday, I am working. And so are many other people. On my way in to work this morning, I stopped by the German Hospital, a private facility, to make an appointment to see a doctor. Though I was able to make an appointment (a receptionist/security guard did it for me), the rest of the hospital was closed.
Closed? I said. But why?
It's a holiday, came the reply.
But this is a hospital. The hospital closest to Taksim Square. What if something happens?
I took a close look around Siraselviler Caddesi, which at 9 am was full of riot police wearing gas masks, guns slung over their shoulders and body shields in hand. The banks were closed. The government tax office was closed.
But most places ... were open. The pharmacists were at work, the çaycıs were schlepping tea for their employers, and taxi drivers were perusing the streets looking for people like me who couldn't get on the subway because it was closed.
It occurred to me that May Day is perhaps not actually about workers themselves. After all, most workers are at their jobs today. The people in Turkey who work six or seven days a week for 12 hours a day who don't get off for bayrams (holidays) are still at work today. These are people who have not benefited from the international labor movement. They don't have the luxury of 8-hour workdays – and yes, it is a luxury in many parts of the world to only work eight hours a day – or paid vacation or sick leave. All of those benefits that most white-collar workers take for granted are not extended to everyone.
So who, exactly, is marching in Taksim Square? And are these people working to extend the rights that much of the Western world enjoys to their Turkish counterparts? Or are they there to throw bottles at police officers and cause a ruckus? Anarchists have apparently set fire to Dumpsters in Cihangir, broken windows of banks and grocery stores and set off general mayhem. Is this really the face of the international labor movement today? My, how far it has fallen.
Although I can't be on the streets with demonstrators today, I am somewhat okay with missing all the hubbub and "festivities" because I am doing what most laborers are doing in Turkey today anyway: working.
