Fem på fak - jussen og ambisjoner

Injuria.no • 13. mars 2022

Tekst: Hedda Fodstad Jørgensen og Adrian Beglin

Foto: Hedda Jørgensen

Emma Nystad Næss (20), andrekullist

Hva fikk deg til å velge jussen?

–Det var litt tilfeldig. Jeg skulle egentlig gå sivilingeniør, gikk realfag, men så fant jeg ut rett før søknadsfristen at jeg ikke er så glad i fysikk og matte. Det ble litt sånn helomvending, så da ble det jussen. Det sto mellom juss og psykologi etter jeg hadde lagt ingeniørutdanningen på hyllen, men jeg synes jussen virket som et interessant område, uten at jeg visste så mye om det.

Har ambisjonene dine endret seg etter at du begynte å studere juss?

–Jeg gikk inn på studiet og tenkte at det er en viss mulighet for at jeg ville bli advokat, og det tenker jeg jo egentlig fremdeles. Nå ser jeg jo at det er flere muligheter enn jeg trodde. Jeg synes eksempelvis internasjonalt arbeid ser veldig spennende ut, og det trodde jeg jo kanskje ikke at jeg skulle komme til.

 

Foto: Hedda Jørgensen

Anna Hval Skiaker (19), førstekullist

Hva fikk deg til å velge jussen?

–Jeg føler juss alltid har blitt så glorifisert, så jeg har alltid hatt et inntrykk av at de er spennende å gå der. At det var vanskelig å komme inne på gjorde det nok også kulere i mine øyne. Alle sier jo det at det er så mange muligheter, og jeg har ingen bestemte ambisjoner, men det er mer det at jeg ønsker å ha friheten til å velge. Mye med jussen er jo knyttet til retten, så hvis man ønsker å utgjøre noe så kan man gjøre det gjennom retten, og det synes jeg virka veldig interessant.

Har ambisjonene dine endret seg etter at du begynte å studere juss?

–Jeg vet i hvert fall at jeg ikke skal bli skilsmisseadvokat, det virker veldig kjedelig. Jeg synes det internasjonale aspektet ved jussen virker mye mer spennende nå som vi har lært mer om det, og hvordan det henger sammen. Det kunne vært spennende med en jobb innenfor det. Når du ser alle de flinke forelesere vi har her, så får du et syn på at du ikke trenger å bli advokat eller noe sånt heller, for å ha en interessant jobb.

 

Foto: Hedda Jørgensen

Nicolay Rowe (22), førstekullist

Hva fikk deg til å velge jussen?

–En stor grunn til at jeg valgte juss var alle yrkesmulighetene, og da spesielt innenfor internasjonal sektor. Mye på grunn av at det blant annet er mange muligheter for jobb i utlandet. Jeg var liksom aldri sikker på at jeg ville ha en spesiell type jobb, men jeg har alltid vært veldig glad i språk. Men igjen, jeg har aldri vært skråsikker, og det er jo derfor jeg valgte juss. Med denne utdanningen kan jeg bli så mangt!

Har ambisjonene dine endret seg etter at du begynte å studere juss?

–Før jeg begynte på jussen var jeg egentlig ganske sikker på at advokatyrket ikke var noe for meg. Det var hverken grunnen til at jeg valgte juss, eller noe jeg interesserte meg for. Etter at jeg begynte her har jeg jo blitt mer eksponert for ulike advokatfirmaer og yrket generelt, og jeg er ikke helt imot å ta den veien lenger. Så har blitt mer åpen for det. Jeg gleder meg til å begynne med internasjonal rett, men jeg skal være ærlig og si at jeg synes avtalerett og erstatningsrett har vært veldig gøy! Rettstvistene er ganske spennende, og det overrasker meg litt at jeg synes det, jeg trodde ikke at jeg var typen som syntes sånt var interessant.

 

Foto: Privat

Parnian Hotaki (21), andrekullist

Hva fikk deg til å velge jussen?

–Jeg hadde litt forskjellige grunner, det ene er at jeg alltid har hatt ganske mange advokater og jurister rundt meg, og de er jo som jurister flest glad i å snakke om juss. Jeg slet med å finne ut hva jeg brant for da jeg var yngre, men jeg har funnet ut at veldig mange saker i samfunnet er juss. Som liten ville jeg bli politi, men så tenkte jeg senere at politiadvokat kunne være interessant. Jeg er fra Afghanistan, hvor rettssystemet ikke akkurat er et eksempel til etterfølgelse, så å føle at jeg kan bidra til å utgjøre en forskjell er viktig for meg.  

Har ambisjonene dine endret seg etter at du begynte å studere juss?

–På en måte, ja. Før hadde jeg veldig høye krav til meg selv, men nå ser jeg jo at alle her er veldig flinke, så jeg har senket kravene litt. Jeg trodde at jusstudiet bare var å pugge lover, det synet har endret seg ganske kraftig, kan du si. Samtidig så har jeg også forstått at dette er studiet for meg. Etter at vi nå ha hatt NIRI, kunne jeg virkelig tenkt meg å jobbe internasjonalt. Mye av familien min bor i utlandet, og jeg ser nå at jussen ikke nødvendigvis begrenser min mulighet til å gjøre det samme.

 

Foto: Hedda Jørgensen

Gaute Risholt (22), fjerdekullist

Hva fikk deg til å velge jussen?

–Jeg har vel ganske lenge hatt lyst til å bli jurist, eller kanskje advokat. Begynte løst med en tanke om at dette virket spennende, og utviklet seg etter hvert som jeg forstod mer hva juss gikk ut på. Da jeg begynte som jusstudent hadde jeg naturligvis ikke hatt noen juridiske fag enda, men synes det virket spennende med kontraktsrett. Det har en logisk oppbygning, og jeg hadde jo realfag på videregående. Passet meg midt i blinken.

Har ambisjonene dine endret seg etter at du begynte å studere juss?

–Ja det vil jeg si. Jeg synes obligasjonsrett var veldig interessant, som da var delt opp i kontraktsrett II og pengekravsrett, og Jeg kan fortsatt tenkt meg å jobbe med formuerett. Utover det synes jeg skatterett virker spennende, i den grad jeg har hatt befatning med det. Det samme gjelder sjørett. Som fjerdekullist begynner jeg nå snart med Allmenn formuerett, som også er et fagområde jeg synes virker spennende. Heftelser, ekstinksjon og eiendomrettens overgang. Plikter og rettigheter i den forbindelse. Men når alt kommer til alt, kan man vel si at det viktigste jeg har lært, er at det aller meste er spennende og interessant, bare man får muligheten til å fordype seg i faget.

Av Hannah M. Behncke, Eylül Sahin and Sabrina Eriksen Zapata – ELSA Bergen, Human Rights, Researchgruppen 24. april 2025
Oppression isn’t always loud - it can be the quiet erasure of culture and language, stripping minorities of their freedom to express who they are. Language and culture are two of the most important means to keep one's identity alive. Unfortunately, many minorities face extreme repression regarding their background. The Kurdish ability to perform their culture in Turkey has been a long struggle. This is still the case today, where the Kurdish minority face backlash for speaking their language. This article will look into the Kurdish fight to protect their identity in Turkey. To gain a deeper understanding of the diverse perspectives on this issue, we interviewed a Kurdish and a Turkish citizen of Turkey about their views on the Turkish state's treatment of Kurds. Legal basis Although several international legal frameworks exist to protect minority cultures and languages, Turkey has not incorporated them into its legal system. Article 27 of the International Covenant of Civil and Political Rights explicitly states that “minorities shall not be denied the right […] to enjoy their culture, [...] or to use their own language.” However, despite ratifying the ICCPR, Turkey made a reservation excluding Article 27. Similarly, the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages requires minority languages to be accessible in education, judicial court proceedings, and in the media. However, Turkey has not ratified this charter. Domestically, the Turkish constitution does not recognize Kurds as a minority. In fact, article 42 explicitly prohibits the “teaching of any language other than Turkish as a mother tongue to Turkish citizens”.1 As a result, the Kurdish language lacks legal protection, unlike Ladino, Greek, and Armenian, which are safeguarded under the Treaty of Lausanne (1923).2 Historical overview After the Ottoman Empire's collapse, the 1920 Treaty of Sèvres promised Kurdish autonomy, but the 1923 Treaty of Lausanne nullified it, dividing Kurdistan among Turkey, Iran, Iraq, and Syria without self-rule.3 Under Atatürk, Turkey enforced homogenization, banning Kurdish in public, closing Kurdish schools, renaming villages (1924) and forcibly relocating Kurds—even though most Kurds did not speak Turkish.4 The state criminalized Kurdish, promoted Citizen, Speak Turkish! and justified relocations as a tool to suppress identity.5 The Sheikh Sa’id Rebellion (1925), led by Kurdish nationalists and Islamists, was brutally crushed, triggering long-term conflict. Martial law and mass deportations lasted until 1939, while uprisings in Ararat (1930) and Dersim (1937–38) faced massacres, bombings, and poison gas, drawing parallels to the Armenian Genocide.6 Allegations of British support for Kurdish rebels persist, but remain debated.7 Kurdish political movements resurfaced in the 1960s and 1970s, with the Kurdish Democratic Party of Turkey (1965) and the Marxist-Leninist PKK (1978) engaging in armed resistance. Turkey designated the PKK a terrorist group in 1997, followed by the US and EU.8 Forced displacement continued, with over a million Kurds migrating between 1950 and 1980 due to state violence and poverty.9 The 1980 military coup further suppressed Kurdish politics, banning education (1982) and publications (Law No. 2932, 1983).10 Despite lifting the language ban in 1991, Kurdish broadcasting remained illegal until 2002. From 1984 to 1999, Turkey destroyed 4,000 Kurdish villages, displaced three million people, and killed tens of thousands in its campaign against Kurdish insurgency.11 The 1991 language bill allowed limited private Kurdish use, but public use remained restricted. Some progress followed in the 21st century, including Kurdish-language broadcasts (2004), a state-run TV channel (2009), and Kurdish as an optional school subject (2012), though full linguistic and cultural rights remain elusive. Oral storytelling (Dengbêj) persisted despite restrictions. Between 2013 and 2015, Turkey’s peace talks with the PKK, involving Abdullah Öcalan, PKK commanders, and pro-Kurdish HDP intermediaries, collapsed—renewing conflict in southeastern Turkey.12 Arbitrary arrests, imprisonment, torture, and land dispossession persist, as security forces often fail to distinguish civilians from PKK members.13 How is the situation today? An estimated 12–20 million Kurds live in Turkey, making up approximately 14–23% of the country's population. The wide range in estimates is due to the absence of ethnicity-related data in official statistics and the social and political stigma that may lead some to conceal their identity.14 As Kurds originate from various countries, most today identify with the state in which they reside. Surveys suggest that many Kurds feel a strong sense of discrimination. Only 28% believe they are treated equally to ethnic Turks, while 58% report experiencing discrimination. Some have even been denied medical services and housing due to their ethnicity.15 To better understand these challenges, we spoke with a Kurdish individual from Elbistan, Turkey, who spent most of his life there before relocating. When asked if he had ever felt pressure speaking Kurdish in public, he recalled visits to public institutions where his family, unable to speak Turkish, had to use Kurdish, but were not allowed to. “It always made us feel fear and anxiety”, he said. He also described restrictions on Kurdish culture: “Whenever we listened to Kurdish music or played traditional games outside, we knew we were being watched. Some of my friends were even detained just for playing games with Kurdish music. It felt like our culture was a crime.” In contrast, a Turkish conservative nationalist offered a different perspective. While personally holding nationalist views, he answered the questions in general terms, arguing that Kurds are integrated into society and do not face systemic barriers. When asked if there was tension between Turks and Kurds in daily life, he dismissed the idea: “Generalizing Turkey’s sociology is difficult, but I don’t see any real barrier. I have Kurdish friends and colleagues, and background doesn’t matter to us. In cities like Istanbul, people aren’t judged based on race, religion, language, or culture.” Even though he acknowledged past discrimination, he viewed it as a historical issue rather than an ongoing one. While the two perspectives differ, they reflect broader discussions on the extent of cultural and linguistic inclusion in Turkey. Surveys suggest that many Kurds report experiencing discrimination, while some view Kurdish cultural expression as unrestricted. The extent to which Kurdish identity is freely expressed - or whether challenges remain - continues to be a subject of debate. The survival of Kurdish culture in Turkey In a survey conducted regarding Kurdish identity, only 30% of Kurds reported their Kurdish language skills to be “good”, and of this 30%, only 44% of them reported that their children had the same strong language skills.16 This suggests that it is harder for each passing generation to maintain and teach the Kurdish language. So how has the oppression impacted Kurdish ability to maintain their language? According to the latter interviewee “Kurdish is spoken openly, cultural traditions are practiced, and there are Kurdish-language newspapers and TV channels”. Media As mentioned above, the Turkish government continuously violates the “freedom of expression”. In 2021, Turkey was the country with most cases regarding violation to “freedom of expression” before the European Court of Human Rights.17 Regarding Kurdish media, there has been a consistent crackdown on Kurdish media platforms. There has also been consistent imprisonment of journalists either writing in Kurdish or regarding Kurdish repression. For instance, Nedim Turfent was sentenced to 8 years imprisonment in 2017 for covering the clashes between the Turkish army and the PKK. In his sentence, he was charged with “membership of a terrorist organization”.18 Education The Educational accessibility to teaching Kurdish has improved in the years. Students in cities with a high population of Kurds, can choose Kurdish as a subject in primary- and secondary school. In addition, some state level universities offer Kurdish programs. However, these educational means have been greatly criticized by Kurdish activists, in regard to the government lowering the quality of education by not supplying enough teachers and appropriate materials needed for the classes.19 Final remarks Language is not just a means of communication; it embodies history, culture, and identity. The Kurdish struggle for linguistic freedom in Turkey is a fight for existence, where legal barriers and social stigmas persist despite claims of progress. While the government insists on inclusivity, Kurdish activists highlight ongoing repression, and for many, fear and anxiety remain. The future of Kurdish identity depends not just on legal reforms but on broader acceptance within Turkish society. Whether true equality is within reach - or remains a distant hope - ultimately depends on who you ask.
Av Injuria 24. april 2025
I denne utgaven: Nordtveit, Ernst - " Rettar til nausttomt " - 1982