Homophobes against Turkish musician: Arrested for being sexy

Towards the end of Mabel Matiz's music video "Ha Leylim" - a poetic, longing term for the loved one - a man in a light blue suit bends his knees slightly, his arms wide open. Opposite him is another man: blonde hair, yellow bell-bottoms, polka dot shirt. The two dance, their hips moving in time. Around them, people are lying scattered on the grass, as if the celebration had simply collapsed onto the meadow at some point. A beautiful, slightly otherworldly scene. What the Istanbul Public Prosecutor's Office sees is mainly the swaying hips of two men.

More precisely: “repetitive arm and hip movements”. They are so important to the public prosecutor's office that they made it into the indictment against Mabel Matiz and the director Sinan Tuncay. The movements are essentially assessed as inappropriate for men or “unmanly” – a violation of public morality! Matiz and Tuncay now face up to three years in prison for “indecency.”

However, this is not the first time for Matiz that his art has been read in this way. The singer is one of Turkey's most successful pop stars, his songs are played on the radio, his videos are viewed millions of times, and his concerts are sold out. He is openly homosexual - and has therefore been in the sights of an AKP government for years, which is increasingly turning queer visibility into a political enemy.

The taz is an independent, left-wing and opinionated daily newspaper. We have been arguing in our comments, essays and debate texts since the taz was founded in 1979. We often cannot and do not want to agree on an opinion. That's why you'll find some completely opposing positions here - all part of the very broad left-wing spectrum of opinions.

His song “Perperişan” already brought Matiz a lawsuit for “indecency” in 2025. Again it was about a love text, again about the question of how it should be understood. In May of this year, Matiz was targeted by the authorities as part of a drug raid targeting people in the entertainment industry.

And now “Ha Leylim”. After the publication, Matiz had to testify again to the public prosecutor. An exit ban was imposed on him. “It is unfair that I have to constantly explain my works in court,” said Matiz.

This “constantly” is crucial here. Because Matiz’s art obviously can’t simply be ambiguous. A love song, a music video, two men dancing - everything is examined for meaning. Matiz himself says that criminal meanings are systematically attributed to his works because of his identity.

It is no coincidence that this is happening right now. “Ailem Güvende” – “My family is safe” – is what the Turkish government calls its current campaign to defend supposed family values. The name reveals a lot. Because anyone who promises to bring the family to safety must also name a danger from which they should be protected.

And this danger is once again the supposedly others: people whose love, bodies or relationships do not fit into the state's desired image of family. Queer people. On the one hand, your own, worth protecting. On the other hand, the supposedly immoral thing from which it needs to be protected.

There is no need to ban homosexuality if its visibility is constantly under suspicion. When a song has to be explained, a dance has to be justified and a hip movement has to be defended in court if in doubt.

Such proceedings are not only directed against those who are actually on trial. They also show everyone else what can happen when you become visible.

But with “Ha Leylim” this calculation doesn’t quite add up. On social media, more and more people, including those from the diaspora, are showing solidarity and dancing exactly that sequence. That's exactly the best answer to all this absurdity. The public prosecutor's office actually only has one problem left: How do you sue thousands of swinging hips at the same time?