Unearthing stories from the rubble: the Great Southern Earthquake

By Deniz Dirisu, correspondent from Türkiye

On 6 February 2023, a catastrophic earthquake hit the southern regions of Türkiye and Syria, killing over 50 000 people. Our correspondent Deniz Dirisu, habituated in Istanbul, was one of the many volunteers who rushed to help. Here, he shares the tragic accounts of the people he met - and explains the implications this catastrophe has on the Turkish elections in May.

“We no longer hear the cry of our citizens saying where is the state" – Erdogan’s statement two months before the earthquake during a nationwide Earthquake drill. These words have become obsolete since the morning of 6 February 2023, which has come to be known as the worst catastrophe in Republic history. Residents of 11 provinces, totalling a population of over 13 million, woke up to a thunderous earthquake of a 7.8 Richter magnitude causing mass damage in south-eastern Türkiye. As the first wave of rescue efforts began to rescue people from the rubble, nine hours later, another earthquake with a magnitude of 7.4 Richter further shook up the region causing more buildings to collapse and trapping rescue workers who were trying to save people from the initial earthquake. 

“We all died, but only some of us were laid to rest” 

Iskenderun was one of the cities hit hard by the earthquakes, especially in the centre of the city, where many buildings collapsed. However, unlike other places, not everything was destroyed, and there was still electricity in some parts of the city, particularly on the outskirts. This allowed for the continued functioning of the city hospital and the setting up of an Indian field hospital that served as a medical lifeline for thousands both in Iskenderun as well as the neighbouring regions. 

Our correspondent delivered supplies and served as a volunteer there immediately after the catastrophe hit.

Operation Dost (“Operation Friend”)

Dost means friend both in Hindustani and Turkish, and it was the name of the rescue and aid operation of the Indian Armed Forces to Türkiye. Part of the operation entailed the establishment of a field hospital in a primary school,  next to Iskenderun’s main hospital to avail operations and prevent the overflow of patients. The field hospital was manned by the Indian Army Medical Corps, the 60th Parachute field hospital unit. 

As we delivered supplies to the field hospital, we decided to stay and volunteer as translators to the Indian doctors. During our stay, we manned various positions such as the register, the pharmacy and triage, and the care rooms. Whilst at the registration desk, Private Emris and I registered about 170 patients within a window of five to six hours. The hospital was dependent on volunteers such as us for translation and deliveries of aid and medicine. 

During our time at the register, we were called upon many times to translate for the doctors in emergency care and the patient rooms.  There, one of the doctors asked me to translate for him what a female patient was saying. As I neared her, I noticed the tears in her eyes and the tiredness on her face. I said, “Hi, how are you? I am here to translate; what is your complaint?” With a shaking voice, she explained that she had been experiencing constant panic attacks and did not want to return to her house for fear of the slightest shaking movements. As she narrated her distress, her voice started to crack, “I have not eaten and slept in days; all I want to do is to calm down. Please give me something to calm me down; this is too much for me.” I paused for a moment to process her words and tell the doctor verbatim what she said, and he emphatically replied, “ She is probably experiencing a massive stress shock and PTSD after the earthquake. There is medicine to help cope with the symptoms; however, we do not have them. I will write you a prescription, and you can go find it in another hospital or aid centre.” With sadness, I explained to her that “there is a medicine that can help you, but we don't have it.”

Antakya/Hatay centre: A town that is no more

After our initial stop at the field hospital in Iskenderun, we decided to move on to Antakya, one of the cities hardest hit by the earthquake. As we entered the town, we first noticed the absence of light. It was pitch dark, with the only sources of light being the heavy machinery working on the rubble or the faint orangy-red glow of fires that the survivors had huddled around. We continued driving into the city, and the real extent of destruction and abandonment was easily discernible to our eyes. Not one single building was undamaged, with most, if not all, destroyed. There was no longer a city called Antakya standing.

Breaking down the hard news

Notifying a family member of a death, in this case, the death of all of their family, is heartbreaking. Driving past the rubble, we decided to stop near a food shelter, where we noticed an ongoing rescue effort and decided to help out. The rescue worker told us that all the work was done and no help was needed but said: “ as you came all the way here, have some tea.” As we were drinking the tea, we saw the removal of four bodies from the rubble and put into body bags, with one of the bodies in such post-mortem rigidity that the volunteer had to shove the deceased’s arm hard into the bag, probably attempting to break the arm for it to fit. 

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of that. Walking away from the rubble, we saw volunteers bring an old couple to the rubble site and sit them down. They were the parents and grandparents of the four deceased; the four bodies were two children and two parents who died in the earthquakes. As the grandmother was told that her whole family had passed away, she collapsed on the floor, bawling in a futile attempt to comprehend reality.

There remain thousands that have not been identified or recovered from the rubble that await their last resting place, with many of them being buried in mass graves due to the sheer volume of corpses in the area. 

One member of the volunteer group had contacts with a grassroots group in Adana that was supplying victims of the earthquake with humanitarian aid. They asked if we could drive supplies to Antakya to someone called Fidal, who was still waiting in his car on Osmanpasa street for days near the rubble where his family was still under. We delivered 19 litres of diesel to his car so he could keep the heater running. After the delivery, he offered to help us look into the rubble where rescue efforts were being carried out. There were two AFAD (Disaster And Emergency Management Presidency) specialists in the rubble who were not only responsible for that building but the whole block due to manpower shortages. We discussed how hard it would be to open a tunnel for the people stuck under while in the back, a Turkish soldier, with the help of two civilians, was using a pickaxe to start digging the hole.

Fidal revealed that for the past four days, they could hear the faint voices of their relatives under the rubble; however, on the fifth day, the voices were no more. A volunteer group then offered Fidal their thermal imaging camera, with which they were able to pick up a faint 18-degree- Celsius temperature, indicating that someone was still alive inside. With renewed hope, Fidal awaited good news. Unfortunately, the manual labour efforts of the volunteers, as well as the lack of specialised machinery on site, blocked the rescue process. Walking back to our car, Fidal told us that he had his uncle and two nephews in the rubble; he considered his uncle to have passed away but believed his nephews were still alive. 

That night we left Antakya to resupply in Adana and work in the Indian field hospital in Iskenderun. After our shift in the field hospital, we returned to Antakya and decided to check on Fidal. There were no lights where we had last encountered him, no one on the rubble, and no rescue efforts, which meant that the volunteers and specialists had moved on to other buildings. Fidal was nowhere to be seen.

What this means for the upcoming elections

The Turkish presidential elections are set to take place on 14 May 2023, only three months after the catastrophe. This is the election decisive for Türkiye’s future. Will the AKP and Erdogan maintain their hegemony and continue their rule, or will the opposition finally succeed and form a new government for the first time in over 20 years?

Before the earthquake, there was a controversial debate on whether Erdogan could run for president as the term limit was two terms, with opposition legal scholars arguing that the constitution prohibited Erdogan from running. On the other hand, the pro-AKP legal scholars argued that due to the change in the constitution in 2017 (under AKP rule and majority), Erdogan is permitted to run as president for a final term. Now, this debate has been long forgotten, and the catastrophe has become a focal point for politics in the foreseeable future. There have been reports and footage of AKP-aligned government agencies stopping and rebranding other parties' or opposition-run municipality aid trucks as their own in a public relations attempt to sway the earthquake victims who are outraged by the government's response to the disaster, as well as its lack of preparation, insensitivity, and allowing corruption in the construction business.

When the AKP administration announced a state of emergency in the 11 regions that were affected, this, in effect, prevented any election propaganda in those areas; therefore, the group that helps the most or is seen helping the most wins the hearts of a broken population. Therefore, during the period between 3 March and 7 March, when the opposition alliance known as the "nation alliance" or “the table of six” experienced a crisis related to selecting a presidential candidate to compete against Erdogan, this led to the perception that the opposition is unstable and not prioritising the earthquake while allowing Erdogan to claim that he is focusing on the disaster, unlike his political opponents.

Rubble theatres

From news footage, many can see the rescue efforts saving victims from earthquakes. However, that is not the whole story. Most news channels have begun to only show these miraculous survivors in their coverage without covering the whole extent of the destruction, the homelessness situation, the medical shortages, and the suffering of people who still await help and the recovery of their loved ones’ bodies. 

Moreover, although the earthquake itself was unavoidable, the disorder and confusion that followed could have been minimized. Many astute geologists, including Professor Dr Celal Sengor, had warned about the possibility of earthquakes and the vulnerability of the existing infrastructure to such events, which are important facts not mentioned by most news channels in the country. In addition, there have been various instances where volunteers who were working on the rubble saving lives were stopped by government rescue units which stood in front of news cameras, being portrayed as the saviours that worked at the rubble nonstop and with the government doing its best everywhere. 

The frustration of the people caused by the absence and incompetence of the government, the lack of preparation, the failure to initially prevent looting and violence, the rubble theatres and the overall incompetence is seen in various viral videos of outrage where people are shouting: “where is the government” as well as a viral video of the minister of justice and the AKP officials being booed and kicked out by locals.

The culprits of construction

Another cause of public anger was the use of recycled concrete and the addition of fewer steel reinforcements to columns by construction companies and contractors, some of whom even fled the country. The government itself had also constructed many buildings in the area without following safety and hazard regulations. These measures were taken to save time and money. When previously confronted by the people and the government, many of the contractors were given contractor amnesty for their faulty buildings and the people were allowed to live in buildings that were a safety hazard, especially in the case of an earthquake. The government had previously even boasted about contractor amnesty as a good thing, which allowed many people with buildings that were not registered due to hazards to be registered officially, thus portraying the administration as solving housing issues. Issues of infrastructure and construction corruption are widespread all around Türkiye. 

There have been many arrests of contractors and construction companies, especially in relation to the collapse of the Isias hotel, where a group of Cypriot students died under the rubble of the hotel, which turned out to have a faulty substructure. Recently, a confidentiality order has been issued in relation to the case against the owners and contractors of the Isias Hotel, which is seen by the public as an attempt to suppress the case. Justice for the thousands of victims of faulty and hazardous buildings remains to be seen. 

A disaster turned catastrophe due to ineffective management and vain government response

Simply put, the situation on the ground can be described as a natural disaster of an unprecedented scale becoming a catastrophe. A catastrophe was brought forth due to the sluggish reactions and incompetence of the government, leading to ineffective deployment of security apparatus and vain disaster management agencies. Years of apathy towards earthquake prevention and construction corruption expanded these problems, such as the Turkish Red Crescent scandals. The main point of contention revolves around two issues. Firstly, the sale of humanitarian aid tents to a national NGO called AHBAP, instead of donating them to provide immediate shelter to the earthquake victims. Secondly, the management staff was seen enjoying a lavish dinner while thousands of people were dead and thousands more were left homeless due to the disaster. Against all these failed measures, there has not been a single resignation of a government official in any capacity, except Devlet Bahceli, a Pro-Erdogan politician who resigned his membership of the football team Besiktas after its fans chanted for the government to resign during a match. 

The conduct and format of elections for the affected 11 regions and its population of 13 million still remain to be determined, especially regarding how the internally displaced will vote in other regions of Türkiye. While trying to heal from the devastating Great Southern Earthquake, Türkiye is facing an election set to be the most decisive in the region, with the outcome shaping not only the future of Türkiye but its neighbours and the Middle East and East Mediterranean region as a whole.


Deniz Dirisu is a Ukrainian/Turkish OSINT journalist and legal scholar with a bachelor’s degree in law from the University of Nottingham and an advanced LLM graduate in Public International Law at the University of Leiden who has a passion for conflict journalism, war crimes research and geopolitics. Currently based in Istanbul, Deniz volunteered in the earthquake-hit regions of Turkey shortly after the catastrophe.