The surprising silence of a bomb heard round the world

Let’s talk about the bombing in Taksim Square. Anyone who reads the news knows by now that a suicide bomber blew himself up in the middle of Istanbul yesterday, injuring 15 police officers and 17 civilians. I was in my hostel, about 3 miles across town, when this occurred, so I was in no danger. I was surprised to hear about it, because, one: I read it on the New York Times website instead of hearing from a local source; and two: I had been in Taksim Square the previous afternoon lolling about with the rest of the unsuspecting locals and tourists who frequent the square each day.

Reading about the bombing gave me a slightly unsettled feeling at first. Just before I saw the story, I was looking in my guidebook for things to do and decided on a walk up Istiklal Caddesi (Independence Avenue), which terminates at Taksim Square. But when I read about the bombing, my first thought was, “Wow. I’d better stay away from that area.”

And then some other instinct kicked in. Maybe it was a habit developed during my time as a newspaper reporter. Or maybe it was a more natural sense of curiosity. Whatever it was, it made me want to check out the situation across town.

I started by venturing just a few hundred meters, to the Hagia Sofia. I wanted to see if people appeared disturbed by what had just happened a few miles away. Nothing seemed amiss. People bustled about as usual. News travels fast over the internet and television, but word of mouth is just as slow as it’s ever been.

I headed north. Walking through town, across the Galata Bridge spanning the Golden Horn, nothing was out of the ordinary. I walked up to Tunel Square, the southern terminus of Istiklal Caddesi, and watched a crowd gather around a man playing a didgeridoo. Along Istiklal, a pedestrian-only street lined with shops and restaurants, people went about their day shopping and eating and taking photos and talking and laughing. 

 

The first evidence something disturbing had happened was at the street’s northern end, a 20-minute walk from the didgeridoo. Police stopped pedestrians from going any further, into Taksim Square. Business in the shops in that area was slow or nonexistent. Up ahead a couple hundred meters you could spot a man in a basket lift, scraping broken glass off the side of a building. An effect of the bomb’s concussion, no doubt. Here, at this end of the avenue, people stopped to look. Some questioned what had happened and gazed on with worried expressions. Most took little notice and simply continued with their shopping. 

Scraping off the broken glass.

Looky-loos on Istiklal Caddesi.

 I hustled down a side street and up a main road parallel to Istiklal. Traffic going toward Taksim was barely crawling. Police cars and vans surrounded the square, while men in white jumpsuits examined evidence on the concrete. Pedestrians crowded the area around the square, some stopping to take photos while others walked by, glued to their cell phones. It had been nearly four hours since the bomb went off, and only a handful of TV and news photographers remained, wrapping up their coverage. I looked at the Monument to the Republic and the open area around it, where I had sat the previous afternoon, taking photos of the flags waving in celebration of the Turkish Republic’s founding (four-score and seven years ago that weekend, as it turns out).

Taksim Square the day before the bombing.

Taksim Square about 4 hours after the bombing.

As I walked back along Istiklal and toward my hostel across town, I wondered how many people even knew what had happened that morning. And whether knowing would make any difference to them. I'm sure the Taksim Square bombing will be forgotten quickly by the news media and anyone who wasn't directly affected by it. As for me, I don’t feel concerned for my safety. Maybe it’s because of everyone else’s calm. Although I am curious as to why I’m hearing fighter jets flying overhead as I write this. There's nothing in the news about that.

Side note:

I’m sorry I haven’t been more regular with my postings during this trip. I’ve found it hard to find the time and energy to write, given all the running around and hopping from city to city every few days.