On February 9, reporter Tolga Güney welcomed a CPJ representative into the apartment he shares with several colleagues in central Izmir, Turkey. It was his 362nd day under house arrest while awaiting trial on terrorism charges. “I believe I’m in this situation for doing my job,” he said over a glass of tea.

Güney is a reporter for pro-Kurdish outlet Mezopotamya News Agency, which has long been in the government crosshairs as part of the country’s decades-long crackdown on the Kurdish insurgent movement. On February 13, 2024, anti-terrorism police raided the homes of Güney and four other reporters affiliated with pro-Kurdish outlets and later placed three of them under house arrest.

Güney, his Mezopotamya News Agency colleague Delal Akyüz, and Melike Aydın, a reporter with another pro-Kurdish outlet JİNNEWS were charged with membership in the outlawed Kurdistan Workers’ Party (PKK) which the government has designated a terrorist organization. In the indictments, which CPJ reviewed, authorities cited the three journalists’ work reporting on Kurdish issues, including phone calls with colleagues and books and magazines confiscated from their homes, as well as secret witness testimony alleging they work under the command of the PKK.

Journalists who work for pro-Kurdish media are at risk in Turkey and beyond. CPJ’s most recent prison census found that 10 Kurdish journalists in multiple countries were imprisoned for their work as of December 1, 2024. Akyüz and Aydın are both Kurds, members of a large ethnic minority that spans several countries in the Middle East.

In addition to visiting Güney at home, CPJ interviewed Aydın while she was under house arrest and spoke with Akyüz over the phone about the conditions of their confinement, their court cases, their views on self-censorship, and how they’ve continued to work from home. After our interviews, Aydın and Güney were released on February 10 while Akyüz was released on the 12th; the three remain under a travel ban while they continue to face charges. The interviews have been edited for length and style.

Delal Akyüz, reporter with Mezopotamya News Agency

Why are you under house arrest?

It may sound funny when I say it, but I don’t know the answer. I studied for four years to be able to write news stories. In court, they asked me if I wrote stories under the command [of someone else]. I’m under house arrest because I’m a journalist who uncover things society wouldn’t otherwise see. I’ve wired 50-150 TL (US$1.30-4.10) to people [in my personal capacity], and authorities call this “financing terrorism.” I talked to a source and asked him to send me a picture from a press conference and authorities described this as “membership in a terrorist organization.”

What are the terms of your arrest? Do you have to wear a tracking device?

I was never strapped with the device because the internet connection was poor. They came to our house in Izmir but they couldn’t connect it. That happened in Diyarbakır, too [to which the journalist relocated while under house arrest]. Police visited the house every day, or every two or three days to get my signature. I was at home every time, of course. I didn’t have experience of being strapped with a device but I did experience the confinement of being stuck indoors.

You are still able to work, though it’s limited. How do you do it?

Out of journalistic habit, I first check the news in the morning when I wake up to see what has happened in the country and the world. Then I write a story if I have one to write or I seek a story out. Ultimately, though, I’m isolated from the society. Visiting the hospital is a problem; I cannot do my own shopping. The place where a journalist can express himself is the streets.

Are you concerned about the possibility that this experience might make you self-censor in the future?

I don’t think that it will. Unfortunately, journalists are frequently detained or arrested in Turkey. It happened to me before, I was detained by the police, two or three times. I don’t believe that I did anything wrong. We are journalists; we may write stories that some may not like.

Melike Aydın, reporter at JİNNEWS

What was the evidence presented by authorities to place you under house arrest?

The evidence against me is not evidence at all. For example, they used a phone call I made – I called my friend saying, “I’m here, where are you?” and she told me where she was – to try to find a terrorist link. Another example: the wife of a local politician called me to tell her husband was taken into police custody. I asked her if they trashed the house and could she send pictures. This is obviously journalistic activity. I’ve wired 500 TL (about $US14) to a friend. They asked if he was a member of a terrorist organization. I believe these house arrests are a result of overpopulation in the prisons. The government wants to bring the atmosphere of fear in the prisons to the neighborhoods.

Have you ever been tried for your journalism before?

A similar case was filed against me in 2018 regarding a social media post that authorities considered “terrorism propaganda.” I received a suspended sentence on the condition of not repeating the offense in the next five years. Prosecutors also reopened old case against me after I became a  journalist; I was taken into police custody while following the Gezi [anti-government] events in Ankara for not obeying an order to disperse. I wasn’t a journalist then but I had a camera and the enthusiasm. I was found guilty in that one. The verdict is in appeal. I was also imprisoned for three months in 2019 for my journalism; the evidence was my reporting and phone calls. The trial lasted about a year and a half before I was acquitted.

How has being under house arrest impacted your wellbeing?

My depression has gotten worse as my house arrest has continued. My performance at work is not the same as it was before. Being confined in one place is hard, even though I’m in the comfort of my own home with the ability to communicate with the outside world. This is a form of psychological torture. At the beginning, you wait month after month hoping they will lift [the house arrest] because the case is ridiculous. Then a year passes.

What kind of journalism have you managed to do under house arrest, and how does this contrast to your working life before?

I do stories that can be done at home. I do interviews on Zoom, I ask people on the phone to send me photographs. [Before my arrest] I wasn’t at home a lot. I was covering trials, social events, traveling outside of the city for stories. Sometimes I was out until 9 p.m. An interview is not the same when you do it on Zoom instead of face to face. There have been a ton of stories that I wanted to cover but I couldn’t. There was a story about local drug deal but I couldn’t do it because I had to go see it in person. I had to capture visuals, convince the people to talk to me, confirm my source’s claims. I couldn’t send somebody else because my source only trusted me. 

Do you find yourself self-censoring, or are you concerned you will in the future?

We are already living with self-censorship. We are reporting the truth of course but either we restrain ourselves or the people we interview do. They say “I’ve said that thing but don’t write that part” or they cancel interviews. This is censorship not by me, but by my sources. Truthfully, I self-censor, too. However, if I have indisputable proof of something and I know that my sources won’t be hurt, then I publish it.

Tolga Güney, reporter with Mezopotamya News Agency

How do you explain your house arrest?

I believe I was targeted because [the government] is interested in my environmental coverage. The questions asked at the police station were all about that. They asked why did I write that report [about a mining company’s activities at the Black Sea shores] and who ordered me to do it? I don’t need to be commanded to write about something that I see with my own eyes. I take commands from my own conscience.

What’s a typical day like under house arrest?

The only thing different is that I don’t go outside. and I wake up at eight, prepare breakfast, take a shower and start working around nine. I live with my colleagues. We have our daily meeting on who handles which story. Then I try to work on my story via the phone or Zoom. One day a week I spend reading books or watching movies.

Can you talk about how house arrest has limited your reporting?

The greatest obstacle turned out to be being unable to use my camera for work. The second obstacle was to not be able to cover many events that were socially or ecologically important. I used to be outside, visiting different neighborhoods after a story.

Are you concerned that you’re resorting to self-censorship under house arrest?

No. I continued to report the same kind of news. I recently wrote a story about how a court order [to stop construction due to environmental damage at Mount Kaz] was ignored. It’s ironic actually, I stay at home, heeding a court order but a company can cut hundreds, thousands of trees, ignoring another. I didn’t self-censor, just the opposite, I got even more ambitious.

What is life like with a tracking device strapped along your ankle?

For the first two months [the strap] was tight. The device has had an effect on me, both physically and psychologically. It’s heavy; I have to turn it when I sit cross-legged because of the pain. I got used to it after some time, it almost became like another body part. But the psychological effect has persisted; I could leave the house with permission if I needed to go to a hospital or something, but I would still have this thing strapped around my ankle. I don’t usually wear pants in the summer, but I had to in order to hide it.

This content originally appeared on Committee to Protect Journalists and was authored by Özgür Öğret.

This post was originally published on Radio Free.