Letter from Turkey’s imprisoned artist to Pablo Hasel

Tekirdağ, Tuesday 5 May 2026

Hello dear Pablo,

I’m writing to you with the excitement of 1 May, which we celebrated just a few days ago.
I’m writing to you from Tekirdağ in Turkey, from a solitary confinement prison known as a Type F facility. This place consists of cells that can hold no more than three people each. Apart from me, there are nine other comrades here. I send you their love and greetings.

Dear Pablo, I am a revolutionary artist just like you. I am a member of Grup Yorum. I play percussion. You’ll know Grup Yorum, of course. Our İdil Cultural Centre in Istanbul has been raided by the police around 30 times over the last 10 years. Every member has been detained hundreds of times and arrested on numerous occasions. I am one of them. I have been a member of the group for seven years and have been arrested four times. And four of those seven years have been spent in prison. The aim is clear: to destroy Yorum.

To erase them from the memory of our people. This group was formed 40 years ago. I’m not even that old. So it existed long before I was born. And it will continue after I’m gone. As long as the struggle for democracy against fascism continues in my country, Yorum will be there. Throughout our history, countless regimes have come and gone, seeking to wipe us out. Now, most of them aren’t even remembered. Yet, despite heavy repression and censorship, we continue to create and produce everywhere, under all conditions. Our songs are listened to and sung by millions. Our melodies echo in every arena where the struggle for life and the class struggle continue. Most recently, 21 of my comrades were imprisoned. Just before 1 May, the İdil Cultural Centre was raided again. Some of our comrades were detained. I haven’t yet found out if anyone was arrested, or their names.

I’ve gone on at length about Yorum, assuming you follow it and have an opinion on it. But I didn’t ask about you. I’m sorry. How are you? How’s your health?

A friend of mine who writes from Germany has visited you. Her name is Şükriye. You’ll remember her. She spoke at length about you.
She also wrote that you’ve been composing music there. Apparently, you’re planning to release an album once you’re released.
I hope that day isn’t too far off and that I’ll be able to listen to your compositions too.
I write poems too, just like you. They’re mostly poems I write for my friends. About the resistance and developments of our prisoners.
For example, the resistance in Gaza and Iran. Short poems where I try to express my creative enthusiasm. I was curious about the topics you’ve been working on.
I’d also heard you were writing a novel. Are you still working on it?
Have you managed to finish it?

I had learnt that there were no other prisoners in the prison with whom you could make friends. Is this still the case? That is what solitary confinement is all about. They isolate us in dungeons, away from the sun and fresh air; they isolate you amidst crowds, yet without a single friend. The aim is the same: to make us submit. In the words of our revolutionary poet Nazim Hikmet, “They won’t let us sing our songs…” Because they are powerful weapons. We are armed with them. And wherever we are, we are a family. That is why you are not alone there, Pablo. Take care of yourself. Until we meet again.

Farewell

Rıdvan Akbaş